


Mirrors and Shadows

by SlimReaper



Series: The Mirror Realm [3]
Category: Thor (2011), Thor (Comics)
Genre: Asgard, Darcy's attitude, F/M, Homecoming, Hurt/Comfort, Jotunn!Loki, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Reconciliation, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-01
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:18:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 94,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimReaper/pseuds/SlimReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to After The Fall. Loki returns to Asgard, but are the Æsir ready to make peace with him? Loki/OC, Thor/Jane, possibly some Darcy/Fandral because two smartasses are better than one, and who knows what else. Guest appearances by the Avengers. Lemons and retold mythology FTW!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thunder

**After the Fall was too much fun, so I did a sequel! Hope you like it. Again, this bears only a passing resemblance to anything done by Marvel, and I'm not profiting from this. Which sucks cuz I could use the money, but hey, whaddya gonna do, right? R &R, my friends!**

.

The buzzing of the alarm clock was a harsh and utterly unwelcome start to Loki's day.

Wait… hadn't he banished that damn thing yesterday?

Loki growled and raised his arm to do so again, but Taryn caught his hand in hers with a sleepy laugh. "Oh no you don't, I don't have another spare," she said, reaching over him and turning off the alarm herself.

The feel of her naked body stretching so soft and languid over his utterly wiped the annoyance from Loki's mind, along with almost every other thought in his head–quite a trick, for him. She didn't go back to her side of the bed once the alarm was silenced, either. She stayed draped over him, collapsing down onto his chest with a sound that was half yawn, half sigh. "Don't wanna go to work," she grumbled.

He stroked her back, kissed her forehead, threaded his fingers through her soft red hair. "Then don't," he said. Personally, he'd be quite happy not to leave this bed for a month, or possibly forever. It still floored him that Taryn welcomed his touch, gave herself to him so completely. After so much rejection in his life, her acceptance–her love–were nearly unbelievable to him. "Doesn't getting kidnapped entitle you to at least a few days off?"

He said it lightly, hiding from her the ferocity of his rage at what had happened. Yes, Thor had apologized for using Taryn as the bait that would lure Loki out of hiding for the meeting Thor had so badly wanted, and Loki knew the Thunder God had no ability to lie within him. If Thor said he was sorry and would never have used her so had he known how it would infuriate Loki, then he truly meant it. And Thor _had_ been willing to fight Nick Fury when he'd attempted to keep Taryn under arrest rather than letting her leave with Loki, which helped. But Loki still wanted blood for the fact that she had been taken from him at all.

Worse, that he hadn't even known about it until hours– _hours!–_ after the fact. He hadn't realized she was in trouble until she'd been late coming home after her six o'clock class, but when they'd returned to her home after he'd rescued her, Taryn had admitted Thor had taken her from her office at the university only minutes after she'd arrived that morning. That knowledge made Loki almost physically ill. At least his brother would never have harmed her, but the question still tormented him. What if Taryn had been kidnapped by someone other than Thor? Anything could've happened to her in those hours when she'd been unable to call for him.

His caressing fingers slipped from her hair to find the Oroborous snake necklace at her throat, and that tight knot inside him loosened a bit. At least such a thing would never happen again.

"Not if I want to keep my teaching post," she sighed, genuine regret lacing her tone that she didn't dare take him up on his offer to stay home. Then Taryn raised her head and smiled down at him as he fingered the platinum snake he'd created. The enormous amount of magic he'd infused into the metal made his skin tingle. "I need to put my mark on you now," she teased.

"Oh, my lady, you already have."

Her smile grew and she kissed him, but when Loki tried to roll with her, to turn the kiss into something more, Taryn pulled away. "I do need to go to work," she said regretfully.

Loki considered arguing against it, or maybe even ordering her not to go, but he knew her better than that. "Then I will go with you," he said, and after a moment, she nodded her agreement. Like Loki, Taryn clearly knew better than to start an argument she'd lose.

She'd seen his fury all too clearly last night.

"Good," she agreed, smiling again. "You can help me grade papers. I know how much you _love_ mindless, repetitive tasks." He groaned and she laughed.

And then an explosion of thunder rocked Taryn's house.

"Loki!"

Thor's shout was as loud as the thunder he'd summoned. Loki was off the bed and again battle-ready in his Æsir armor with a thought. What was Thor doing here? Hadn't Loki been clear enough last night? "Stay there," he told Taryn as she scrambled to her feet, winding the sheets around her body.

She didn't get a chance to reply before Thor crashed through their bedroom door, also in his full Æsir armor. He batted a whirling knife out of the air with Mjolnir–Loki's throw had been pure reflex. The blade curved out of its deflected arc and returned to stab Thor in the back of the thigh–all the adjustment Loki could make in the instant he had to react, impaling leg instead of throat. The little dagger hadn't even been slowed by Thor's armor.

"What the hell do you want?" Loki demanded, yanking the knife out with a twitch of one finger before whatever spells he'd put on this particular blade could do him serious damage. If Taryn hadn't been there, he might've been tempted to leave it in, but she always made him want to be better than he was. _Damn it._ "Didn't I tell you not–"

"You have to get her out of here," Thor interrupted, teeth gritted as he clutched his leg. Loki's magic was a green stain mingled in the flowing blood. Loki caught the knife as it flew back to him and felt the spell of pain he'd enchanted it with. Nothing else could make Thor react so to just one little wound. "SHIELD will be here any second–"

This time, the explosion that rocked the house was a real explosion. Everything else forgotton, Loki spun, saw Taryn staring at him wide-eyed with terror, and cursed himself for not killing Fury last night when he'd had the chance. His mind worked rapidly. "Taryn," he said, holding out a hand, and she ran to grasp it without hesitation. "Do not move from where I put you," Loki commanded, and before she could reply, he thrust her through the full-length mirror on her closet door and left her there.

"Odin's Beard, Loki, you know that's not safe!" Thor grunted, collapsing down to one knee, but he still held Mjollnir ready. "Bring her back! I will fly her to safety!"

Loki didn't bother replying to that–there wasn't time. He could hear things breaking in the other rooms as SHIELD invaded. "Stay together," Loki ordered, then grabbed Thor under the arm and shoved him through the mirror after Taryn as his brother shouted in protest.

Thor was never one to leave a battle, but to Loki's mind, he'd been given a far more important job–protecting Taryn. Besides, his brother wouldn't be much good in a melee until Loki could take the time to lift the spell crippling his leg. Far better for Thor to keep Taryn from wandering in the mirror realm, where being still was the only virtue Loki needed from him.

Something else shattered and Loki resolutely turned his back on the mirror. "Have you come to play with me again, SHIELD?" he called, his voice a merry challenge.

…

Taryn caught Thor as he was thrust unceremoniously through the mirror–and he did mean _caught._ Thor tried to stand but collapsed with a groan when his leg buckled, taking her down with him, pinning her beneath his crushingly heavy body.

If the situation wasn't so strange and their new location so terrifying, the look on Taryn's face at Thor's haste in scrambling off her when he realized what he'd done would've made him laugh. Here, however, laughter wasn't a reaction he felt able to give. "Forgive me," Thor said, holding up both hands. "I meant no disrespect."

Now there was laughter–Taryn's. "If getting squished is the worst that happens to me today, I'll be happy," she said, and finally took a moment to look around her. All the humor drained from her face and was replaced by bewilderment. "Where are we?"

Thousands of mirrors surrounded them, dancing and ringing as though they were the largest glass wind chime in existence. The panels looked close enough to touch, but when she reached out, Taryn's fingertips met nothingness. Just in front of them, a mirrored pane showed Taryn's bedroom with Loki in the center, far away and hazy. His green eyes seemed to find her for an instant but in the next, he turned and walked away. The window into her room darkened and was soon just another mirror, one among many in the spinning crowd. Acting on instinct, Taryn started to get to her feet, to catch up to it before it could be lost.

Thor grabbed her arm and stopped her. "No! Don't move," he shouted, teeth gritted against whatever Loki's wicked spell was doing to his leg, and he pulled her back down to sit beside him. "Loki has sent us into the mirror realm."

Her brown eyes lit with excitement. "We're in another realm? That's so cool! I've always wanted to see–"

Thor cut her off, his face and tone dark. "Whatever you've always wanted to see, you won't find it here."

"You've been here before?" Taryn asked, obviously taken aback by his reply.

Thor shook his head. "Never," he growled, and he'd never wanted to be, either. Memories of an argument between Frigga and Loki, more vicious than any other, swept his mind. "Mother was furious when she learned that Loki had discovered this place. She said it is more perilous than any other realm–more sorcerers have been lost to the mirror realm than in any war, she told him. She begged him to leave it alone, but he would not be put off. It was a challenge."

Taryn glanced around and he clearly read her worry in every reflection before he spoke again, his voice very serious, needing her to believe how dangerous this was. "Taryn, Loki told you to stay where he put you, and told me to stay with you. They weren't idle words. If we are separated, the chances of finding each other again are almost nonexistent. If we move from this spot, there is every chance Loki won't be able to find us to bring us out of here."

Taryn gaped at him for a moment. Then she reached up and touched a necklace Thor knew hadn't been on her last night–because if he'd seen it, he'd have known at once that she and Loki were lovers and he would never have touched her, much less taken her. The glistening Oroborus snake wrapped around her throat and clutched its own tail in its teeth, a symbol of rebirth and eternity. The favorite symbol of Loki. "He will find us," Taryn said, and the assurance in her voice was so complete, Thor didn't question her.

"There are other reasons," Thor admitted. Gods, his leg felt like it had been injected with acid! What the _hell_ had Loki done to his knives? He'd never been able to enchant his throwing knives with curses before–every try had left him near crippled from the magic drain. A quick spell for accuracy had been his limit in the heat of a fight and Thor knew he hadn't had time for even that just now. Whatever spell had been on that knife had been laid before Thor had ever come to Taryn's home.

Yet more proof that Loki had grown immeasurably more powerful than when Thor had last fought him on Asgard.

But this, too, was a puzzle for another time. Much as he wished he were at Loki's side, battling those who would harm his brother, Thor had to admit that he was probably better placed here. Loki was a battle-tested veteran, hardly in need of Thor's defense. Taryn, despite her brave heart, was no warrior maiden like Sif. Thor indeed felt the burden Loki had placed upon him and tightened his grip on Mjollnir. _I will not fail you, brother,_ he swore silently.

Taryn shivered and pulled her sheets tighter around her shoulders. The mirrors around them spun, turn, offered glimpses of other worlds, of faces, of fire and water and violence and things gone too quickly to be recognized–some beautiful, some hideous. "Well, I'm guessing we don't want to run across those lost sorcerers," she said quietly. "I'd imagine they'd go crazy pretty fast in here. Just tell me this–how soon before they realize we might represent a way _out_ of here and come looking for us? And how long before _we_ go nuts, too?"

She was quick for a Midgardian, Thor thought with admiration. Of course, Loki would never love someone who wasn't. "Just try not to look too deeply into the mirrors," Thor said, not knowing if it was good advice or not, but it gave her something to focus on other than the swirling, changing images. She nodded and focused on her feet instead. "Loki will not leave us here long enough for the Lost Ones to find us."

Taryn's mouth tightened and she nodded once. He liked her faith in his brother. It was a quality he hadn't seen in many others. "Why is SHIELD really after me?" she asked after a few moments where Thor's harsh, uneven breathing was the only sound to break the musical tinkling of swirling mirrors.

Thor's fingers dug into the thick muscle of his thigh as a wave of agony tore through him. It was a moment before he could speak. "I am not entirely sure, but the reasons Fury gave last night are the most likely," he finally managed. Gods, he'd never showed pain like this, but then again, he'd never _felt_ pain like this. The enchantment on that knife had been powerful indeed to hurt him so. "According to your government, you've aided a fugitive. And Loki showed his power last night when he controlled Fury," he added, cursing himself for his part in making his brother do so. "He's too strong for them to ignore."

Taryn wrapped her arms around her knees. "I don't suppose it would help if you told them that he just wants to be left alone," she sighed. "They're not going to do anything but piss him off, you know that, right?"

"Indeed I do." Thor actually groaned the words and hated that he couldn't hide his pain from her. It was unmanning to be seen as so weak, and by his brother's woman, no less! It could only be worse if it was Jane witnessing his weakness. "They are provoking the war they fear, just as I almost did when I took you."

Taryn finally looked up from her bare feet and frowned when she saw him–Thor could see his own green-tinged pallor in a thousand reflections. "God, you look awful! Let me try something to help you out," she said, raising a hand as if to unfasten the necklace that was all she wore besides the bedding.

Thor caught her wrist and stopped her. "That is my brother's symbol," he said, although the chances of her not knowing that were slim. "Whatever you are planning, leave that there. If Loki were to return and it not be upon you, his reaction would be… poor."

Taryn scoffed at the word he'd chosen, but Thor couldn't make himself say any of the others that had been rejected before he'd settled on _poor_ –disastrous was probably the most accurate _._ Thor had no desire to make a permanent enemy of the brother he'd only just reclaimed. Loki had always been jealous of Thor, and if he arrived to find Thor and Taryn sitting so close, she wearing only a thin sheet and Loki's gift gone from her neck… it didn't bear thinking of. "What would you have done?" Thor asked, because he was truly curious. If Loki could enchant one of a thousand knives with such a strong spell, what would he have placed on the gift he'd given the woman he loved?


	2. Everything You Love Most

 

"I thought it could help you," Taryn replied, and despite not reaching for it again, he could tell she wanted to. He redoubled his efforts to hide his pain. "He said it could heal any injury."

Thor's brows rose. That was strong magic. How long before the Lost Ones smelled it on her and came to investigate? "That is a rich gift indeed. Does it do aught else?" he asked, mainly to keep her talking so that thought wouldn't occur to her, too. With an enchantment like that, the necklace didn't _need_ to do anything else to be worth all the gold in Asgard.

Taryn touched the necklace and this time Thor made no move to stop her. Her fingers played lightly over the snake in an unconscious caress. "He said no one could take it off me without my permission. While I wear this, he can find me anywhere, and hear me if I said his name, even if we were in different realms," Taryn said, and now Thor was beyond impressed. But she wasn't done. "He said… he said that while I wear this, I share his life force. He said I'm immortal with it on, Thor. Is that possible?" This last was said in a rush, her eyes catching his and holding him captive.

Thor's breath left him in a rush. No, it shouldn't be possible–immortality was granted by Idunna's golden apples, not magic. But Loki's power had grown so much… without speaking, Thor reached for the necklace slowly enough for her to stop him if she chose. She didn't. He touched the chain and felt the deep thrum of power within it, enough to drive his leg's tearing pain from his mind for an instant. Then he pinched it between his fingers as if to pull it off of her.

Immediately that thrum sharpened into a searing bolt, a warning of such power that he was blasted back. Only Taryn's quick grab that caught his ankle prevented them from being separated.

Thor slammed into the mirrored ground and could have sworn his hair was smoking. Never had he felt such power, not even from his lightning–and that was the _warning?_ "I would say that what is possible and what is not no longer have any bearing on what Loki can do," Thor managed, scooting back over to sit beside her again. "My brother has certainly changed."

Her eyes were wide at this demonstration of the necklace's power. Thor scrubbed a hand over his face to hide that the pain in his leg had redoubled. "I love him," Taryn said, and there was a note of defiance in her voice that caught his attention. "And it's not for his power."

"And I am glad of it," Thor said, meeting her gaze openly. She relaxed a little and he smiled at her as the images around them darkened and swirled faster. Was this an indication that the Lost Ones were getting nearer? Mjollnir was steady in his hand, warm and comforting in this strangest of places, and Thor gripped it tighter. What was taking Loki so long?

Taryn took the hand not holding his hammer and returned it to the necklace. "If this can do all he said, it should be able to take your pain away if I want it to," she said, and at those words, a green light slid from the chain down his hand.

When it reached his wound, the agony in his leg, that tearing, rending, burning pain, faded to a mere sting.

Thor groaned in relief. "You are an angel," he said, keeping his hand where it was. How he would fight if the Lost Ones found them and he had to release her, he didn't know, but for now, he would take the opportunity to replenish his strength.

"I know," Taryn said, smiling smugly, and Thor laughed. Then she sobered. "I'm never going back to the university again, am I," she said, and it wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry," Thor said, truly meaning it. "SHIELD is sure to be waiting for you there."

Taryn sighed, and tears gathered in her eyes for a moment.  Then she dashed them away and straightened her shoulders.  “I knew there would be sacrifices when I accepted this,” she said, touching the necklace again.  “I would give far more than that to be with Loki.”

 _Do you need me?_

Taryn went rigid in shock at the immediate reply, and Thor heard it, too–perhaps because he still touched his brother's token at her throat. Apparently that necklace did everything Taryn had said it would. "Loki?" she gasped, her fists tightening on the sheet as she looked around as if expecting to see him.

 _Were you expecting someone else?_ This time his brother's voice was amused. _Are you well, Taryn?_

"Yeah, we're fine, the decor here is fantastic and Thor loves my fashion statement, now will you please stop playing with your food and come get us?" she said with acid sarcasm, and Thor laughed aloud. Oh, yes, she was a match for his brother. "I know it doesn't take you that long to kick a few asses."

Loki's amused laughter, warmer and richer than any Thor had heard from his brother in centuries–if he'd ever heard such from him–enveloped them. _These are very entertaining asses to kick, but for you, I will stop 'playing' and make an end of them._

"Don't kill them!"

Thor was startled by the vehemence in Taryn's voice. Apparently it had come out harsher than she'd intended, because she repeated it more softly. "Please, Loki, don't kill them."

There was a moment of silence before Loki's voice returned. _They have destroyed your home, Taryn,_ he said, all teasing gone, anger now evident in his words. _All your books, your artifacts, your photographs. Everything you love most is in flames. Are you sure you wish to let them live?_

"Not everything I love," Taryn contradicted him softly. "And definitely not what I love most."

The hesitation was longer this time. _I will come to you soon, my lady,_ Loki replied at last, the anger much softened. _And do tell my brother it's rude to eavesdrop._

"I'll do that," Taryn promised, and they both felt the change as Loki's attention left them.

"SHIELD had better learn quickly to leave you alone," Thor said, awed at this casual use of what he knew was an awesome amount of power. Communication between the realms was hideously difficult, requiring such power that all who had tried had been burned alive by the demands of it. Yet Loki used it just to tease her, as though it were as easy as making a phone call. "If there still is a SHIELD when he gets done with them, that is."

A hand suddenly reached through one of the mirrors and closed over Taryn’s wrist.  Thinking it was Loki, she turned toward it with a smile, only to scream when she saw that it belonged not to her lover but to a leering, half-rotted creature who gibbered hungrily at her through the dark mirror.  Thor leapt to his feet and tried to pull Taryn away from the thing.  The returning torment in his leg threatened to buckle the limb beneath him again.  The adrenaline of battle helped Thor to fight it off.  The Lost One was stronger than he thought, though, and he couldn’t break its hold.  Taryn dug her fingers into his arm in a death grip as it dragged her toward the mirror.

  
Since Thor couldn’t stop its pull or break its grip, he did the only other thing he could.  Yanking Taryn to one side, Thor instead threw Mjolnir with all his strength, shattering the Lost One and the mirror which had held it with one mighty blow.  Its severed arm remained, however, hand clinging to Taryn, the limb dripping gore, and she screamed again and would have run if Thor hadn’t kept hold of her.  He pulled her hard against him and locked her to his side.  “Stay!” he shouted as Mjolnir returned to his hand.  He used it to knock the arm away from her.  “They do not hunt alone.  And call to my brother again!”

“Loki!” Taryn screamed as the mirrors around them abruptly sprouted limbs, a hundred hands grabbing for them, feeling the magic of her necklace and his hammer, coveting both enchanted items for themselves.  The next Lost One who touched her was blown apart in a surge of green magic, but a dozen more rose to take its place.  Thor swung Mjolnir viciously and fought them off, but more always swarmed to replace them.

  
Another caught a handful of her hair and her scream changed from fear to pain as it wrenched her head back, baring her throat.  Thor bashed its face with Mjolnir as the green light attacked, melting it as if at the touch of acid.  As their attacks redoubled, the green light swelled and surged, swarming over the Lost Ones and turning their cackling laughter into shrieks of agony.  Still, Thor had no desire to test how long Loki’s protections would last as a thousand more Lost Ones snatched and pulled at them both–nor did he wish to tempt the thing to see him as a threat–and when she screamed again, he added his own voice in calling for his brother.  “Loki!”

And then Loki was there, Lost Ones flung away from him as though from an explosion. He grabbed both of them and hurled them through another mirror with a strength Thor hadn't thought his brother possessed. Thor tried to keep his feet when they landed, but again he collapsed as his leg caught shrieked with pain. This time, Taryn landed atop him, and Thor started to help her up before he realized the Lost Ones had shredded the sheet from her. Lacking any safe place to rest his gaze, Thor closed his eyes and hoped his hands would land on her shoulders when he helped her off him instead of on anything that would make Loki kill him. Then he turned away from her, ready to fight, and looked around them to see what new hell realm his brother had thrown them into now.

It was a meadow, a lovely, sunlit, peaceful field dotted with flowers. Where was the mirror Loki had used for their exit? Thor was no magician, but he knew that the only way into or out of the mirror realm was through a solid reflective surface. He didn't find it until he'd turned a full circle and saw the tiny pond with its surface reflecting the blue sky. _He should not be able to do that,_ that voice murmured in the back of his mind.

He pulled off his cape, putting the impossibility of Loki's magic out of his mind. "Here," he said, thrusting the material at Taryn. When would he really understand, to the point where he was no longer surprised by the impossible, that Loki had changed more than Thor could ever have anticipated?

"Thanks," Taryn said, and after giving her a moment to wrap the cape around herself, Thor turned back to her. "Where are we?" she asked as she stood up, making an attempt to keep her voice from breaking.

"This is Central Texas. It's safe here."

Loki stepped from the mirrored surface of the pond, defying gravity and physics with equal ease. Taryn threw herself into his arms and he murmured a spell as he caught her. Thor's cape morphed into a dress that covered her much better. "Shh, love, it's over, I've got you," Loki soothed her, caressing her back, cradling her to his chest as though she were something infinitely precious, and only Thor saw how his brother's hands shook. "Didn't I tell you I would never allow anything to harm you?"

"The mirror realm sucks." Taryn's voice, fervent and shaking, was muffled against Loki's shoulder as she held onto him with all her strength. "Don't you ever do that to me again, do you hear me? Next time I'd rather stay in a burning house!"

"I won't," Loki whispered, stroking her hair as she clung to him. "I'm sorry."

Then Loki looked at Thor over her head, seeming to notice for the first time that Thor's leg was still saturated with his own pain-magic. "Forgive me, brother. Let me take care of that for you," he said, and with a few murmured words and wave of his hand, the green stain of magic evaporated from Thor's leg and took the agony with it.

The relief was almost enough to unman him again. Thor inclined his head in gratitude. "Quite a spell you had on your blade," he said, getting cautiously to his feet. His leg held him easily this time.

"One of many," Loki said casually, but there was a warning in it, and Thor heeded it.

"What did you do to them?" Thor asked. He was on his brother's side in this, truly he was, but the agents at SHIELD were his allies. Choosing between them wasn't a position he relished.

Taryn raised her head from Loki's chest and studied his face. "He kicked their asses," she said, as if reading the answer in the utter blankness of his expression, "but didn't kill any of them."

Loki nodded at her words with a little smile. "Not even the ones wearing red shirts," he confirmed, and she laughed–and although it was shaky, it was a real laugh. Loki smiled at her as that was clearly his intention.

"Star Trek reference for the win," Taryn teased. Then she her smile faded as she looked around her–this place was so different from her home.

Thor knew what she was thinking. "I will speak to SHIELD and find out what it will take to get them to leave you be," he promised, already thinking of what he would tell them. Loki was not to be trifled with. "You will not have to hide for long, Taryn."

"Don't waste your time. I already know what they want," Loki said with more than a hint of a growl. "They asked me to join them. After launching a full-out attack to capture my lady, they actually asked me to join their _Avengers_." The name was spat with disdain. Taryn and Thor both gaped at him. "If I do so, they will expunge your record of this ridiculous charge and you can return to your university."

Even Thor, never exactly a strategic mastermind, was aghast at the stupidity of the plan. "Did they not think to simply approach you and ask?"

"Apparently not." Loki finally met Thor's gaze and it was all he could do not to recoil from the rage he saw there. "Where do you stand, Thor?" he asked, challenging.

"Always with you, brother," Thor answered without hesitation. "But they are my allies, Loki, and I would have peace rather than open war. They do much to protect Midgard from many threats. Your strength would be a great boon. Despite what they have done, will you consider it? Will you fight beside me once more and defend Midgard as you did Asgard?"

Loki's lip curled, but Taryn looked up at him and he swallowed whatever he'd been about to say. "I will, if you ask it," Loki finally replied, looking at her rather than Thor.

Taryn looked taken aback, but Thor knew enough now to expect that response from Loki. He hoped that Taryn would prove herself worthy of his brother now. An instant later, she did. "No one blackmails you into anything, Loki," she said hotly. "And definitely not using me to do it. Join them or not, I don't care, but make it your decision."

Loki smiled softly at her, and there was such love in the expression, Thor looked away–it felt too private to witness. "If I do not join them, that means you cannot return home," he reminded her. "Your teaching position, your friends… are you sure you're willing to give all that up?"

Taryn shrugged as if that didn't matter. "Apparently I don't have much of a home to return to now, thanks to SHIELD. And I'll have you, which is better than any of the rest of it anyway." Then she smiled and cupped his cheek in a gentle hand while he stared at her as if amazed that she would give up so much to be with him. "Why don't you make me a palace in the sky with a wave of your hand instead? I'll be safe from SHIELD there," she teased, although Thor could still see her shaking from their encounter with the Lost Ones. "Don't tell me you can't, because I won't believe you can't do anything."

"Or you could make her safe place Asgard."

They both looked up at Thor's words, and he could almost believe they'd forgotten he was there. Thor crossed his arms and met his brother's green gaze unflinchingly. "If you are not with SHIELD, they will say you are against them, and they are very powerful. No place on this realm will hide her for long. Come make peace with Asgard, Loki, and let her be safe there," Thor repeated more firmly this time. "You know better than any how secure the palace is. Could there be any better place for her to stay?"

Anger was the least of the conflicting emotions Thor saw in that emerald gaze. Beneath it all, he thought he saw longing, a homesickness so strong it was near crippling. Or was that just what Thor wanted to see? "I could not bring Taryn there without Odin's blessing," Loki said, his tone very flat. "You offer a sanctuary that does not exist, Thor."

But Thor thought Odin _would_ give that blessing if Loki asked it. Loki hadn't seen how deeply Odin mourned his loss, but no words would ever convince Loki of their father's grief. He knew too well how easily words could be twisted into lies. Somehow, Thor would have to tempt Loki back to Asgard so he could see it for himself. "Our company is weak without you," Thor told him, hoping the mention of their friends would sway Loki. "Sif complains all the time that five is not enough for a worthy fight. Even Hogun misses knowing you guard our backs."

Loki snorted with derision. "Do you expect me to believe any of them would want me at their backs now?"

Thor sighed harshly. "You might be surprised, brother." He knew how Sif and the Warriors Three had reacted to Loki's actions when he'd held Odin's throne, but Loki didn't know what they were like now that he was gone. A shadow had fallen over them all and would not be lifted. They didn't understand why he'd done what he had–they wouldn't until he revealed his Jötunn heritage to them, as he had to Thor–but they missed the Trickster they'd fought beside for so many long centuries. Thor hadn't lied when he said that the company was not the same without Loki. "Asgard is not whole without you there. All of us feel your absence, whether you choose to believe it or not."

"You forget that even if I wanted to return, I am no longer welcome in Asgard." Ice should have formed on the words, so frigid was Loki's tone.

"Not so," Thor persisted, shaking his head. He was making progress, he could feel it. Loki only ever went so cold when he was feeling intensely. "You are every bit what you were, Loki–still Odinsson, still prince, still citizen of Asgard. Our father–" and Thor emphasized that, "–has rescinded nothing from you."

"Because he believes me dead," Loki snarled, control snapping, and behind the anger, Thor saw the pain in his gaze and knew he didn't believe. Wouldn't dare to believe in case he was wrong again. "Once Odin knows otherwise, I fully expect that situation to be rectified."

Thor wanted to reach out and shake Loki, to tear the wariness and fear of rejection out of him by mean force. Instead, Taryn reached up and touched his face, attempting the same thing with gentleness. "How many times since you arrived at my door have you been surprised by the true feelings others have for you?" she asked softly, and Thor saw Loki hesitate, saw his surety waver.

Sensing weakness, Thor went in for the kill. "Mother mourns you without cease, refusing all food or drink. She no longer weaves and will see no one. Nothing gives her comfort," he said, driving the blade mercilessly deep. "She is inconsolable."

Loki stiffened. "Cruel," he whispered.

"You are the only one who could end her grief," Thor pressed. "Will you leave her suffering?"

"Thor?" Taryn's voice was sweet, and after last night, Thor expected it when she went on, "Say one more word to hurt him and I will personally tear out your liver."

"His pain is not what I want."

"Then take your guilt trip and shove it so far up your ass you can taste it. Let Loki decide for himself when or if he'll return to Asgard," Taryn said, glaring at him, sweet tone gone now. "You're as bad as SHIELD. Jesus, can none of you just freaking _ask_?"

Loki stroked her hair and she subsided, but her glare remained. Thor was glad of her ferocity on his brother's behalf. Loki needed someone unequivocally on his side. "Do you ask me to return to Asgard, Thor?" Loki finally said, his voice quiet. "Knowing that Sif would gladly put a blade in my heart had she the opportunity, knowing the Warriors Three believe the worst of me, knowing that I am not Odinsson but Laufeysson? Do you ask me to abandon Taryn alone on Midgard and go to face all the Æsir as SHIELD hunts for her? Do you truly ask me to return to Asgard, knowing Odin has every reason to declare me an enemy of the Æsir and sentence me however he deems fit? Is this what you ask, _brother_?"

"Yes," Thor said, not hesitating, not blinking. "I do ask it, because I know that these things will not happen, and I would have you know it, too. And Taryn would not be alone," he added. "I would stay here with her and protect her with my life."

Loki opened his mouth, then shut it again. Taryn looked up at him and seemed to see something in his blank face, because she glanced back at Thor and said, "Would you mind pissing off for a minute? Go pick some flowers or something. Just go the hell away."

Thor nodded, a bit thrown by the profanity, the evidence that she was still very angry at him. He turned and walked across the meadow, well out of earshot, and he prayed that whatever Taryn wanted to say that she didn't want Thor to hear, it would bring his brother to accept that he had to return to Asgard. Loki would never truly be at peace until he did. Of that, Thor was certain.

…

Loki watched Thor walk away, felt Taryn warm and solid in his arms, and tried to center himself in those things. After the fight with Iron Man and Hulk in Taryn's home–muscle and technology to counter his magic, a combination that might have worked on Loki before he'd absorbed the raw power of the universe–and seeing the Lost Ones trying to literally tear Taryn to pieces in the mirror realm, Loki desperately needed a moment to gather himself.

And clearly he wasn't going to get it. Thor's suggestion to return to Asgard had blindsided him, and that was not a feeling Loki was used to. He couldn't stop himself from imagining Frigga's grief-ravaged face. Damn Thor for that! He knew it wasn't a lie, either–his brother was no damn good at them, and Frigga had always loved Loki with her whole heart even though he was no fruit of her body. She would indeed be mourning him.

Taryn hugged him, and Loki tried to put the mental image away. "Thor is a tool," she growled, holding him tight. "That's why he's got a hammer, you know. He's the god of tools." Loki laughed, a little huff of air. He was definitely going to remember that and use it later. She raised her head and kissed him softly, going up onto her toes to do so. "But he has a point," she added, as if it irked her to admit it.

Loki sighed and rested his forehead against hers. "I don't need Asgard," he breathed, and wondered who he was trying to convince.

"I know," Taryn said, letting him have the lie. "But it's your home. Your mother. Your brother. Your friends and books and all the wonders you've told me about over the years. You don't need it, but you should have all of that."

"Do you think I should go?" Loki asked, actually thinking of it for the first time. "If Thor could convince Odin to allow you to come to Asgard, there is no place you would be safer."

"Whatever you do, Loki, don't do it for me," she replied instantly. "You already gave me plenty of protection–okay, those Lost Ones scared the living shit out of me, but none of them actually hurt me. I bet I could walk right up to SHIELD and they couldn't do a damn thing to me. And don't do it for Thor, either, no matter what guilt trip he tries to lay on you. No, if you go back to Asgard, do it for _you_." Taryn pulled away just enough to meet his eyes. "You deserve peace, Loki. And if not peace, at least closure."

He sighed again. That was exactly what he was missing–closure. And he suddenly remembered his mother asking him to bring Taryn to Asgard and share her with all the Æsir, words he still wondered if were prophetic. He imagined showing her the palace, the library, his study, picturing her in all in his favorite places. He could gate in at any time, walk the hidden byways without Heimdall knowing, but he couldn't bring Taryn with him that way–the protections surrounding Asgard would prevent that. He'd studied them so many times, but only those Odin had blessed could walk in Asgard. The only reason he'd been able to admit the Jötunn was that Odin had once welcomed their race in peace–Loki had twisted that, convincing the enchantment that they would never be allowed to start a war, that the Destroyer would stop them before they could truly harm the Æsir.

But Odin had never welcomed a living Midgardian into Asgard, only the souls of those valiant warriors he'd admitted to Valhalla. While Taryn lived, there was nothing for Loki to manipulate, no loophole to twist to his will–only his power against the full magic of the Eternal Realm itself, and Loki didn't think even he could win that test of strength.

Taryn just held him, not pressing him further, and finally Loki closed his eyes and nodded. "I will go, then," he said, the words like lead in his mouth because they meant he would have to leave her.

She hugged him. "If that is what you want, then I fully support you in the decision," she said, and that meant a lot to him, but not as much as what she said next. "But take Thor with you when you go, Loki. I want you to have someone on your side."

"He pledged to stay here with you," Loki protested to hide how much easier the idea of having Thor stand beside him when he faced the Æsir made the prospect of his return. "I won't leave you unprotected."

She reached up and touched the necklace. "You haven't. Remember?"

He touched the snake chain again, felt his enchantments on it, whole and strong. Finally, he nodded again. "I don't want you to be alone," he said, but this time it wasn't such a strong protest.

Suddenly she smiled. "Then give me that snake you won for me," she suggested.

Loki laughed. "I could make that into a worthy guardian," he mused, and her grin widened. "Yes, I like that idea. Now, where would you like to stay while I am away? A castle in the clouds?" It would be a challenge, but he could do it. He actually hoped she would say yes just so he _could_ show off for her.

Taryn shook her head. "No, I'd have to sleep with a parachute on in case of sleepwalking," she said, and he laughed. "How about a nice, regular house somewhere?"

"Whatever my lady wants, my lady shall have," Loki said, promising so much more than just a home, and when she kissed him, he knew she understood.

"You already know what I want," she murmured against his lips.

He remembered her words in the kitchen, what felt like a lifetime ago. _Be happy, Loki–that's all I want._ "You should be more selfish when a god offers you anything you want," he said, teasing to hide how tight his heart felt at that moment. Her laugh was music to him, and as Loki waved to Thor, beckoning his brother over, Loki again wished she would just once ask him for the impossible so he could give it to her. "It's very frustrating for the god," he added, just to make her smile again.

"Yes, but there are always loopholes," she countered with a little grin. "I know too much mythology to ever accept a blank check like that."

"I would never trick you," Loki protested. She smiled, kissed him again, and didn't release him until Thor stopped beside them again.

Then she turned and spoke before Loki could. "You swore to Loki that you would protect me with your life," she said, stepping away from Loki and standing before Thor, shoulders squared as though ready to fight. "Now swear the same thing to me–protect Loki with your life."

Thor frowned, a little confusion in his eyes, but he didn't hesitate. "Loki knows he will always have my protection, if indeed ever he needs it."

"But I don't know it," Taryn countered, not giving an inch. "So swear it to me, Thor, because you're going with him to Asgard, and you're not going to let anything happen to him. I don't care who you have to fight. You will not leave him to face anything alone, you got that?" She poked his chest with a fingertip for emphasis.

Thor's face split in a joyous smile and suddenly he grabbed Taryn up in a bear-hug, sweeping her entirely off the ground in his enthusiasm. "You convinced him to return to Asgard!" he cried happily, spinning with her. "You are a miracle, Taryn Roswell!"

"Yeah, I am, but he decided for himself," Taryn protested, breathless when Thor put her back on her feet, and Loki put an arm around her to steady her. "And I'm still waiting for your promise!"

Still grinning hugely, Thor dropped to one knee before her and clasped her hand in both of his. "I swear to you, Taryn Roswell, that I will keep my brother from harm, and that whenever he has need of me, I will be there for him," Thor promised.

But she wasn't satisfied yet. "And most of all, you will remember who gained that hammer for you, and what he suffered for doing so," Taryn persisted, glaring down at him. Loki winced at the reminder of kneeling before the Æsir while the dwarf Brock sewed his lips together. Thor's laughing eyes went utterly solemn and Loki knew he remembered the same thing.

"No matter what happens, Thor Odinsson, you will not watch silently as Loki is mocked or harmed by the Æsir or anyone else. Do you understand what I'm asking of you?" she pressed, holding his brother's gaze fiercely. "You will be on his side, and no matter if yours is the _only_ voice on his side, you will not be silent. I want you to swear upon Mjolnir that Loki will never again find himself alone and abandoned before the Æsir."

Thor released her hands. He drew Mjolnir from its place at his side and laid the mighty hammer at Taryn's feet, head bowed. "You speak of one of the greatest regrets of my long life, Taryn," he told her quietly, and the sorrow in his voice was too great to be feigned. It brought all the pain back to Loki–the shock, the shame, the tearing pain of the thick metal awl piercing his lips, and most of all the disbelief that no one, not even his beloved older brother, was going to stop Brock from humiliating him before all the Æsir–just as if it had happened yesterday instead of hundreds of years ago.

Then Thor lifted his head, placed his hands upon the gleaming metal of the hammer Loki had won for him all those centuries ago, and spoke in a strong, clear voice. "I swear by Mjolnir, I will not leave Loki to face the judgment or ridicule of the Æsir alone ever again. If it costs me all I hold dear, I swear to you that I will stand beside him and defend him, and if that defense fails, then I will share wholly in his fate. Taryn Roswell, you have the word of the son of Odin."

She bit her lip and stared at Thor for a long moment. He didn't look away. Loki wondered what she saw in his brother's blue eyes, but finally she nodded and let her breath out in a sigh before bending and placing her own hands over his on Mjolnir. "I accept your pledge, son of Odin," she said softly. Thor got to his feet as she straightened, and both of them looked at Loki. "When will you go?" Taryn asked.

Loki shrugged with a nonchalance he didn't feel. His brother's pledge reverberated in his ears, the emotion in Thor's voice searing him to the soul. After all he'd done, Loki wasn't sure he deserved such a pledge from Thor, but he would take it. If he were truly to stand before Odin again, he would need all the help he could get. And the way Taryn had demanded that Thor swear it to her, and upon Mjolnir of all things… no Valkyrie had ever been more fierce. He couldn't believe this remarkable woman was truly his. "First I must see you settled safely," he said, unable to think beyond that. He needed time, peace to hold her and absorb everything that had happened in these few short days since he'd fallen from Asgard and lost everything, only to gain something he'd never thought he could have.

"And I must return to Jane and tell her all that has happened. A few days should be adequate to prepare for our return," Thor said, and now that he'd made his pledge, some of the happiness at the prospect of his brother's return to Asgard returned to his face. "Loki, where will you place your lady?"

"Good question." Loki mused for a moment. This meadow was lovely, but the Texas weather was too hot for his liking–this had merely been the first safe place the mirrors had offered him. He shook his head. His mind was unable to settle on any one destination right now. "I will decide after returning you to your Jane," he hedged. _Peace first,_ he thought. _Hold her tight first. I can't let her go yet–I'll decide after._ After what, he wasn't sure–just _after._

Thor nodded, accepting the non-answer, and Loki wrapped his arm more tightly around Taryn before clasping his brother's arm and stepping back into the mirror-bright pond.


	3. All the Meanings of Home

Leaving Taryn in the opulent safe-house Loki had procured for her high in the mountains of Wyoming was harder than anything Loki had ever done.

She did her best to make it easy for him, though. She'd teased him about making sure that the coffeepot had a timer so she could awaken to freshly brewed coffee, just like he was there to make it for her. She'd chosen green sheets so he'd know she thought of him whenever she got into bed. And when he'd summoned the snake he'd won for her–it felt like a lifetime ago–she had cuddled it close while looking into his eyes. "Still reminds me of you," she'd said, and he'd taken her back into the bedroom and broken in those green sheets with so much passion, he'd almost expected them to catch fire.

And Loki had hidden things around the house for her to find, to remind her of him during his absence. One guest room closet opened onto a private beach in the Caribbean. Two of the eggs in the carton held square-cut, platinum-set emerald earrings within their shells–a matching ring and bracelet were stashed in the coffee tin and dishwasher. He also enchanted a crystal vase to regenerate fresh flowers daily, exotic blossoms only found on Vanaheim or Alfheim, precious blooms much treasured by the elves and Vanir.

Not every surprise was so extravagant. He set her alarm clock to his voice, awakening her to, "Good morning, my lady, it is one day closer to the end of our separation," rather than that harsh buzzing he hated. A quick spell on her favorite coffee mug ensured that every time she poured coffee into it, cream and sugar were instantly added to her preference. The television could show her any show or movie, from any country, at any time. And he created a special cell phone that could call anyone in the world and was absolutely untraceable.

For himself, he took only a lock of her hair while she slept and enclosed it with a crystal rose, never to leave his pocket while he was away from her.

But even with all his preparations, when Thor arrived on the evening of the third day since Taryn's San Diego home had been destroyed, Loki seriously considered backing out. This time with her… it hadn't been enough. An eternity wouldn't be enough. After loving her for five long years, having her as his own for only a few short days was far too little for him. He'd known her so well as a friend but he didn't know everything about her as a lover yet, and he wanted to. Gods, he wanted to explore everything about her, but Thor was even now circling with Mjollnir, looking for a spot to land, and Loki's time was up.

Taryn had squeezed his hand tight as Thor finally chose his spot and came in for a landing. Thunder rumbled, shaking the windows. "Closure," she whispered, fully understanding his hesitation, reading his second thoughts as if Loki had spoken them aloud. "Thor will be with you. And you know I'll be here when you get back."

That, at least, Loki did know. With the amount of spells he'd placed on this house, SHIELD wouldn't find her here even if they walked right through the front door. "I won't be gone long," he said, hoping he wasn't lying.

"It will take as long as it takes," Taryn corrected gently. "Family is important, Loki. Take as long as you need."

Thor knocked at the door and Loki finally released her. She smiled at him, brown eyes very bright as she looked at him in his Æsir armor, every bit the prince. "I love you, Loki," she said, and he touched the crystal rose and stored those precious words within it so he could hear them at will.

"My lady," Loki murmured, raising her hand and kissing the knuckles, seeing the blush, loving it. "My heart stays here with you."

And within minutes, he and Thor were gone–vanished through the full-length hallway mirror and emerging from another that had been set up at the Bifrost site near Puente Antigua. Loki shuddered as the desert heat crawled over his skin. "Miserable place," he grumbled, but Thor wasn't listening. He'd immediately cast his gaze up to the churning sky.

"Heimdall, bring us home!" Thor commanded, and the swirling clouds lengthened into a funnel before slamming into the ground around them, drawing Loki and Thor into the magic of the Bifrost.

And then it was too late to change his mind–which of course had been why Thor had rushed him so. Apparently Taryn wasn't the only one who had seen the misgivings on his face. Loki watched Asgard hurtling closer through the multihued magic of the bifrost, tried to brace himself, to gather his thoughts, but the only thing he could see was Odin's disappointment. The only thing he could hear was _no, Loki._

Cursing himself for ever leaving Taryn and the happiness she'd brought him, Loki wished he had never let Thor talk him into this madness.

The Bifrost deposited them in a chamber so familiar, Loki could almost believe the destruction of bridge and Chamber had been nothing more than a hallucination. Heimdall slid his sword from the golden holder on the raised dais and held it ready in both hands. "When I Saw you, I did not believe the vision," he said to Loki, his deep voice slow, calm, devoid of accusation or anger. "Yet here you are, returned to Asgard. For what purpose?"

Thor did not move from his place at Loki's shoulder, and although he didn't speak, Loki was glad of his silent support. "To find if there is anything left here for me," Loki replied, not sure what other answer to give.

Heimdall's gaze left him and turned to Thor. "I am sworn to protect this realm from all who would harm it," he said, still cool, still emotionless. "You know this, Prince Thor. Tell me, what message should I take from this unexpected return?"

"No more or less than what my brother has himself told you," Thor replied.

Heimdall was silent for a long time, sword still at the ready. What he thought, Loki couldn't guess. After all, the last time he had seen the Gatekeeper of the Gods, he'd frozen Heimdall with the Casket of Ancient Winters. Would Heimdall bother to banish him back to Midgard, Loki wondered as the silence continued? Or would he merely throw him bodily off the edge again, cast him into the void once more?

Finally, Heimdall spoke again. "I will only admit you to Asgard conditionally, Loki."

"You forget he is your prince." Thor's voice was a stern basso rumble.

"Prince Loki," Heimdall corrected himself, but his golden eyes didn't waver from Loki's. "You will neither hide from my eyes nor walk the secret ways once you pass from this place. Until Odin, our King, once more names you trustworthy, know that my eye will be upon you and my sword ready to defend the realm. Do you accept these conditions?"

Loki chaffed against the restrictions. If he agreed, he would not be able to slip away and see Taryn until he was released to do so by Odin. And Odin might never do so.

Thor spoke again. "You ask much, Heimdall," he said, and now he stepped forward, resting one foot on the lowest step of the dais.

"But not too much," Heimdall countered, firm. "Do you give your pledge, Prince Loki, or would you have me return you to Midgard?"

Loki touched the rose again and thought of returning to Taryn so soon after leaving her, thought of her acceptance, how she wouldn't judge him at all for refusing to bind himself. And he suddenly raised his chin, reclaiming the regal bearing he'd left behind when he'd fallen from the shattered Bridge. "I give you my word, Gatekeeper," he said, not even trying to twist the pledge to allow himself an exit. Taryn had trusted Thor's promise to her, and Loki would do likewise. If this went bad, he would just have to hope Thor could get him out of it. "I will not walk the secret ways between realms, nor use my magic to hide from your view, until Odin again trusts me."

Stoic as he was, Heimdall couldn't hide the flicker of surprise in his gold eyes as Loki spoke. At last he lowered the sword from its ready position. "Then I give you leave to enter Asgard once more," he said, stepping aside to allow the brothers to pass.

"Thank you." The words were bitter, but Loki forced them out. This was just his first taste of the welcome he'd expected, had every right to expect, and was probably the mildest of them all.

Thor was visibly angry as they strode out of the Chamber. "He had no right to demand that of you," he growled, fingers clenching on Mjollnir's handle.

"He had every right," Loki corrected him. And he hadn't asked Loki to relinquish the Casket, which he still held secret in the same dimensional pocket that stored his throwing daggers and a few other treasures. "He is the Guardian, and I am not trustworthy."

Thor growled again, this time wordlessly, but Loki wasn't listening. A distinctive gallop shook the rebuilt crystal bridge beneath him and he grinned. Only one horse in the world sounded like that. "Sleipnir," he breathed as the stallion, riderless, sped toward them. His child in all the ways that mattered, conceived in magic and born in blood and pain–Loki still bore the scar upon his chest where he'd spilled his own blood to give the steed life–the enormous eight-legged stallion was by far the finest steed to ever have lived.

Thor suddenly grinned and slapped Loki on the back. "I told you that you were missed!" he shouted as Sleipnir skidded to a rearing halt before them. "He has not let Father near him since you left us."

Loki hid his smile as Sleipnir nuzzled his shoulder with something less than gentleness. Gift to Odin though he had been, the stallion's first loyalty was always to Loki. "Whoa, easy," Loki murmured when the horse butted him again, making him stumble back a step. "I'm sorry I left you. Nothing went as planned," he admitted. Sleipnir neighed, stomped the bridge, and then leaned a shoulder against Loki with affection and finally submitted to having his nose stroked.

"Will you take us to the Allfather, Sleipnir?" Thor asked as Loki ran his hands over the strong neck, leaning against his strength, looking once more into those fiery eyes–yes, he'd missed Sleipnir. The prospect of riding him again was a thrilling one. Easily strong enough to carry both of them at a full gallop, Sleipnir could make in minutes the trip that would have taken Loki and Thor at least an hour to walk.

"There is no need."

Loki's spine straightened in one convulsive shudder. That voice… He could not breathe, could not move as it rolled over him. That voice had always been utter authority to him, always the final word, the one thing that could not be gainsaid. Once, Loki would have given his soul to hear that voice praise him, to simply say Loki made him proud, and he was ashamed to realize that a part of him still would. Sleipnir pawed the bridge, sensing his creator's turmoil, and whickered deep in his massive chest as if asking what the matter was, but Loki remained frozen.

"Will you not speak, my son?" Odin said, quietly if not softly–that voice could not be soft, was too rich with power for such a thing.

That broke the paralysis, at least enough for words. "Not your son," Loki rasped, and his own legendarily smooth voice now sounded like it scraped over ground glass.

"Always my son," Odin corrected him. "Will you not turn that I may welcome you home?"

A strong hand grasped Loki's shoulder, Thor's or Odin's, he was unsure which. But Loki ignored the silent request and remained staring at the stallion, hands tight in the thick black mane, breath harsh. "Forgiveness has never been so easily won from you," Loki finally said, and itched to add, _Father,_ but didn't dare.

"And it is not now," Odin said, and this was more what Loki had expected. "But your mother weeps for you and I would have her pain end. Prove yourself again loyal to Asgard and be welcomed back to your home, Loki, son of Odin."

Finally, Loki turned–it was Thor's hand on him, not Odin's, which was not a surprise. But the reply came from Thor, not Loki, and that _was_.

"You caused this, Father, not Loki," Thor growled, and Loki's shock at that proclamation was echoed on Odin's face. Thor released his brother's shoulder and stepped toward their father, back straight, gaze steady. "All through our childhood, you decried deceit. Never was Loki more severely punished than when you caught him in a lie, no matter how small. Yet you lied to him for all these years, and about this!"

"Thor," Loki said, unsure what he planned to say, but Thor waved him into silence.

"All these centuries, you spoke to us of the evil of Jötunnheim, the wickedness of the Jötunn race. What did you expect would happen when Loki learned the truth?" Thor demanded.

"I had hoped he never would," Odin replied, and now he sounded weary–more than he had even before this last Odinsleep.

"A fool's hope," Thor accused, and Loki clutched Sleipnir's mane hard to keep from stumbling in shock. The last time Thor had spoken so to Odin, he'd been cursed and cast out. The very real anger in his voice told Loki that Thor was willing to risk the same and more now, to get this settled between them.

"Perhaps," Odin said. He looked past Thor and Loki met the Allfather's gaze once more. "I had never expected you to encounter the Jötunn and discover the truth so harshly." It wasn't an apology, though, and Loki did not take it as one.

"Knowing Loki, you should have expected him to discover the truth far sooner," Thor persisted.

"Thor, please, enough." Loki was almost as surprised as Thor and Odin at the sound of his own voice. He released his hold on Sleipnir and straightened. "I accept full blame for what I did," he said, and ignored Thor when his brother stepped forward with a cry of negation. "But I would ask you to do the same."

Odin held his gaze for a long time. Then, to Loki's surprise, the Allfather looked away first. "Perhaps it would have been better, had I told you the truth," Odin murmured as if the admission had been wrenched from him.

It still wasn't an apology. But this time, Loki decided it was as much as he was likely to get and nodded to Odin stiffly. The Allfather reached out, clasped his shoulder, but said no more before mounting Sleipnir–the stallion quite clearly looked to Loki for approval before accepting Odin's weight. Loki turned to Thor and offered his brother a smile–small but real. A thanks for his loyalty.

"Come," Thor said, seeing a pair of horses approaching behind Sleipnir. "Our mother is anxious to see you, Loki."


	4. Welcome Home

His first meeting with Sif and the Warriors Three went every bit as well as Loki had expected it would.

Thor had insisted all the way back to the palace that the four would welcome Loki back just as Thor had. Loki had stared at Odin's back and said nothing as they rode. He knew better. Thor was an optimist, and despite his newfound maturity, he still held onto that childlike belief that everything would be find just because he willed it to be so.

Loki, however, was a realist. He knew exactly what he was and what he'd done. And he knew that Hogun, Volstagg, Fandral and Sif were not the most forgiving of Æsir.

Thor hadn't taken no for an answer, though, and after greeting Frigga– _Gods, her tears, the strain on her beautiful face, the silver that hadn't graced her hair before he'd left, and all the guilt choking Loki until he wished he could slip through the dimensions and escape the evidence of the pain he'd caused her_ –he'd dragged Loki out of the palace and down to the practice field they'd always favored.

True to Thor's instincts, the four warriors were there, Volstagg and Hogun sparring while Sif and Fandral sat on the wooden fence in the shade, looking on and catcalling. Volstagg would crush Hogun if he ever managed to land a blow–the warrior was enormous, the battle-ax he swung deadly by its weight alone, much less its razor edge–but Hogun remained every bit as fast as the ninja he'd once been. Throwing blunted kunai and shuriken from a distance, the smaller warrior was clearly winning the bout. Thor grinned and clapped Loki on the shoulder, but he couldn't share his brother's joy at the familiar sight.

A glittering star sliced through the air and bounced off Volstagg's red forehead. "You are dead," Hogun declared in his flat, quiet voice, and Sif and Fandral laughed at the huge Viking's chagrin.

"One of these days I'm going to get you, I vow," Volstagg growled, but his panting spoiled the threat.

"My friends!" Thor called, all but dragging Loki along with him. "I have brought a surprise for you! Guess who has agreed to rejoin us?"

The four turned, all smiling at Thor's boisterous greeting, but all their smiles froze and then died when they saw Loki at their prince's side. Loki felt the ice inside him more than ever and gave a mocking little smile and bow. Why had he ever agreed to this? There was no welcome here for him, no matter what Thor had said.

Sif, unsurprisingly, was the one who broke the silence. "Thor, your love of danger has finally made you lose your reason," she said, glaring daggers at Loki.

Thor's smile also faded. "There is no danger here, Sif."

All of them looked doubtful. Loki took a slow breath and faced his brother, knowing a cue to leave when he saw one. "I will meet you at dinner, brother," he told Thor, using the title mostly to piss off the Warriors. From the hiss Sif couldn't quite hide, Loki knew it had worked. "For now I will retire to my rooms. The journey was tiring."

But Thor didn't allow his graceful retreat. He reached out and clasped Loki's arm, squeezing with enough pressure that it was difficult not to wince. "No, Loki," he said firmly. "You will stay."

Loki raised a mild eyebrow, but the words he sent to Thor's mind were anything but mild. _You do not command me, Thor._

Thor looked only a little surprised to hear Loki's voice in his head but he didn't release him or look his way. He continued to stare down the four warriors before them. "If I have forgiven my brother, you can do so as well," Thor said quietly. "There were reasons for what he did."

"And do we get to know what they are?" Sif asked, challenging, her chin jutting and eyes narrowed.

"When you have earned the right, perhaps," Thor shot back, just as cold. His blue gaze swept them once more. "For now, as your friend, as your companion, I ask you to trust my judgment in this matter. Loki has returned home. Odin and Frigga have welcomed him. Do you say you know better?"

Volstagg was the first to look away. After a moment, Fandral and Hogun exchanged a glance and then looked to Sif. Loki, however, had never taken his eyes off her. He remembered too well how close she'd come to violence when they'd found him upon Odin's throne. Always the most passionate of the Warriors, the fiercest resistance would come from her.

Finally Sif spat and turned to the weapons rack. "If he wishes to rejoin us, let him earn it," she growled, and choosing an enormous broadsword, she spun around and threw it at Loki, blade-first like a spear.

He caught it with ease. "You wish to spar with me?" he asked calmly, knowing she'd chosen his least favorite weapon on purpose. He preferred his throwing blades or a staff–something light and maneuverable which would accentuate his speed and agility. This two-handed broadsword, heavy and unwieldy, had never been a weapon he'd chosen for himself.

Sif discarded her own practice blade and instead drew her glaive–a vicious, dual-bladed weapon with which she was a master. "I wish to see what color a snake bleeds," she said, grinning with the light of battle in her eyes.

Thor frowned and stepped forward, but Loki held up a hand. "Do not interfere now, brother," he murmured for Thor's ears alone.

"This isn't a sparring match, Loki," Thor growled back.

Loki smiled, but it was thin, bloodless, utterly without humor. "Of course not," he said. "You were the only one who didn't expect this."

And he left Thor standing and ducked beneath the wooden beam of the fence.

Sif's first strike came at him before he'd even straightened, but Loki was ready for it. She'd always telegraphed her moves with little flickers of her gaze–something he'd never bothered to tell her and saw no benefit in sharing with her now. He blocked the strike with the hilt of the broadsword. Her glaive rang like a bell. He was also ready for the sweep of her backstroke, leaping back to prevent his legs from being slashed.

He was less prepared for the heavy blow to the back of his head from the hilt of Fandral's sword.

Thor shouted as Loki stumbled, momentarily stunned, but he was already casting a spell to even the odds as he again told Thor, "Do not interfere, brother!" Three other Lokis split from him, one for each of the Warriors Three, as Loki returned his attention to Sif. She smirked with dark pleasure at his stumble and twirled her glaive, pointedly showing her skill and grace with the weapon.

The gloating pleasure on her face bit at him. Oh, fuck this disadvantage. Loki narrowed his eyes and murmured another spell. His awkward, heavy broadsword morphed in his hands into a long, blade-tipped spear.

"Cheating again, Cowardson?" Sif taunted.

"You chose your weapon, and I choose mine," Loki shot back, and then they clashed again.

Sif hadn't been known as the Goddess of War on Midgard for nothing. She was vicious with that glaive and Loki more than had his hands full fending her off. Spinning, kicking, lashing out with spear and fist, Loki deflected her attacks and initiated a few of his own. But first blood went to Sif, as it always had when they'd sparred in less tense times.

Loki barely felt the sting of the glaive's razor edge slicing his cheek. Sif smiled gloatingly at the warm blood sliding over his skin. "And here I thought it would be black, to match your traitorous heart," she mocked.

Loki smiled back at her even though nothing in him felt like smiling at the moment. "As always, your words wound as deeply as your blades," he returned, and she came at him again.

Behind him, Fandral kicked his clone away and went for the real Loki again, only to be intercepted by another clone–Volstagg alone hadn't joined in the fight. Hogun flung a handful of shuriken at Loki, distracting him, and his duck to avoid them almost earned him another cut from Sif. The throwing stars embedded in the fence and trees, proving they were not Hogun's blunted practice ones.

He went on the offensive now, starting to get angry. Since when had the Warriors Three ganged up on one opponent like this? Striking hard at Sif's guard, Loki drew a dagger from the ether and flung it at her simultaneously.

It slipped past glaive and shield and stopped a hair's breadth from her face. "Do pay attention, Lady Tyrsdottir," Loki chided, calling the blade back without so much as scratching her skin. "I would hate to spill your own exalted blood."

She scowled and attacked with even more ferocity than before. Whenever Hogun and Fandral could do so, they added their own strikes against the real Loki, and he directed a bit more magic into his clones to keep them busy. It was hard enough fending off Sif without having to deal with those two going for his back.

Suddenly, all were blinded by a bolt of lightning striking right in the center of the practice field. The simultaneous blast of thunder knocked them to the ground and the backlash disrupted all of Loki's clones. "Enough!" Thor roared, striding out and lifting Loki to his feet. "I am ashamed of all of you–Hogun, Fandral, when have you ever interfered in a fight fairly challenged? Sif, are you so unsure of your own prowess that you seek to put your opponent at a disadvantage? Volstagg, you would stand by and watch this unfold without a protest? What has happened to you all? Have you no honor left?"

Fandral looked away first, dropping his eyes. Hogun slowly followed suit. Sif, however, pushed to her feet with her glaive still at the ready and glared right back at Thor. " _He_ happened to us!" she shouted, pointing at Loki. "You speak to us of honor and yet defend the one who betrayed you and had you banished?"

Thor returned her furious look and didn't release Loki's arm from the grip that was growing uncomfortably tight. "My own desire for revenge had me banished," he told her flatly. "The All-father was right to do so. I would have started a needless war, Sif. Our excursion to Jötunnheim was my plan–a plan my brother spoke against, if you will but recall it. You cannot blame Loki for my own recklessness."

"He's right, Sif," Volstagg said when Sif started to protest. She whirled on him, furious, but the older warrior didn't back down. "If Thor can take responsibility for his own decisions, you can at least acknowledge the truth of what happened that day."

"And what of all that came after?" Sif persisted. "Are we to simply forget that Loki stole the throne and–"

"I stole nothing." Loki's calm, almost emotionless voice broke through her accusations. "Thor was banished and Odin incapacitated by the Odinsleep. Asgard cannot be without a leader, Sif. With Thor gone, who should have taken the throne? You?"

She flushed but still didn't lower her weapon. "Odd that he fell so deeply into the Odinsleep while he was alone with you, Spell-weaver. Odder still that you refused to bring the true heir back to Asgard and instead–"

" _Enough."_

That single word from Thor finally succeeded in silencing her. Thor gripped Mjolnir tightly, his knuckles audibly creaking on the leather-wrapped handle. "Loki did what was right in taking the throne while our father was in the grip of the Odinsleep," Thor said after letting the silence go on past the point of discomfort. Loki wished he would release his arm. "And he did what was right in refusing to rescind my banishment. Understand this, all of you–had he brought me home then, I would still be that same reckless boy, unfit to lead our company, much less all the Nine Realms. I do not judge him for what happened here while I was cast out, and nor should you."

Sif lowered her glaive slowly, looking from Thor to Loki and back again. "Thor, we wish only to show you what Loki–"

"No, Sif," he cut her off coldly. "You seek revenge for a wrong that was not done, and I have learned that revenge only destroys."

 _Revenge only destroys…_ Loki couldn't argue that. He still felt a hot blade of guilt in his heart for every Jötunn life he'd taken by his cruel misuse of the bifrost.

Loki finally pulled his arm away from Thor's grasp, but gently, not wanting to offend his brother. In truth, even after Thor's defense of him to Odin, he was still having trouble believing his brother really meant all of this. Were these his true feelings, or was he merely saying what he needed to say to avoid breaking his vow to Taryn?

Volstagg stepped forward and, hesitating only a little, clapped Loki on the shoulder. It was brief, but it was friendly. "Welcome home, Odinsson," he said, and even though he didn't meet Loki's eyes before he turned and walked away, Loki felt the tension inside him loosen a bit.

Hogun didn't clasp Loki's shoulder–that wasn't his way–but he did nod slightly at Loki before following Volstagg back toward the castle. Fandral, however, looked between Sif and Thor for a long time before sighing. "You never make things easy, Loki," he said wearily.

Loki shrugged with a nonchalance he certainly didn't feel and reached up to rub the back of his head pointedly. The blond warrior flushed and kicked a pebble, looking for all the world like a little boy caught in wrongdoing. "Sorry about the cheap shot," Fandral muttered.

"It is forgiven," Loki replied at once. Once he would've held a grudge, but no more. Despite the throbbing headache, he would accept that and more to have at least one of the Warriors look on him with something like the companionship they used to share, and Fandral had always been the closest he'd had to a true friend among them. "I did not return here to harm Thor or Asgard," Loki added, wanting to make it clear.

Fandral nodded, and to his credit, he only hesitated a moment before doing so. Then he looked at Sif again. "If Thor trusts him, can we do less?" he asked her.

Sif scowled. "I do not so easily welcome a sorcerous serpent back into our midst," she growled, but Fandral only shrugged and, as Volstagg had done, briefly clasped Loki's shoulder before following the other two.

Finally, only Thor, Loki, and Sif still remained at the field. Sif folded her glaive with sharp, angry movements, then slid it into its sheath at her back before facing the brothers again. "Do you truly trust him, Thor?" she asked bluntly.

"With my life," Thor replied immediately.

"I do not." Sif turned her burning eyes on Loki next and he held her gaze without flinching. "I do not welcome you home, Lie-smith," she said coldly. "But as I love Thor, nor will I act against you. I will watch you only until your true motives become clear. Consider yourself warned."

Loki let out his breath in a tired sigh as she followed her fellow warriors away from the field. "That was fun," he muttered, finally reaching up to wipe the blood from his cheek.

Thor growled and clenched his fists at his sides. "They will come around, brother," he said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Loki. "Give them time, Loki. They will remember all the centuries you fought honorably alongside us rather than those mistakes made over such a brief number of days."

Loki wanted to snort in disbelief but he didn't. Right now, Thor and Frigga had been the only ones who'd been enthusiastic about his return to Asgard. He couldn't afford to alienate either of them. "I'm sure you're right," he said instead, and knew he was lying. He wasn't sure of any such thing.


	5. Wanderlust

Asgard was a beautiful, shining jail, imprisoning Loki with chains of familial love and bars of royal duty.

  
Loki paced the familiar halls where he’d spent centuries, aching to leave and unable to do so–Odin had not yet given his leave, and Loki would not break his own word.  Not now, when Thor was doing so much to help him regain his former standing in Asgard.  Not while Frigga smiled with such pride and happiness each time he took his customary place at her table.  Not when Odin had publicly welcomed him home in a banquet of unsurpassed extravagance and reaffirmed to all of Asgard that he was still prince, still honored, still the Second Son of Odin.

  
But beautiful as Asgard was, this was not where Loki longed to be.  His boots clicked on the polished floors as he walked endlessly, losing himself in the corridors of the enormous palace, discovering dusty places and forgotten rooms he hadn’t seen since ancient childhood explorations with Thor.  He ignored the rediscovered treasures and pressed on in an effort to lose himself again, always seeking for something and never finding it.  Because what he did most was ache–literally ache, with a pain so deep it felt embedded in his bones–to return to Midgard.

  
That longing was worse now that Thor had gone back to Earth to retrieve his beloved Jane for their wedding on the morrow.  The empty place his brother usually filled with his too-large personality threatened to suck away what little peace Loki had managed to find here over the three months (ninety-six days, not that he’d been counting each second he’d been apart from Taryn) he’d been back in Asgard.  He could only imagine how much worse it would be when Thor returned with Jane and he had to see the happy couple stand before the All-Father and pledge their eternal love and devotion.

  
He missed Taryn so much it was like losing a limb.  

  
But he kept reminding himself that she’d supported his decision to come and try to make peace with the Æsir–for his own sake, not theirs–and Loki would do anything not to disappoint her.  At least his necklace assured him constantly that she was well.  If he concentrated, he could see through the platinum snake’s eyes, check on her as she went through her daily routine in the home where he’d hidden her, even speak with her for a short time.  But it wasn’t the same as holding her in his arms, and those short conversations–no more than five minutes, because any longer left him with a magic-drain hangover that lasted for days–only made him miss her more.

  
He drew out the crystal rose, stared at the crimson strands curled within it, and heard Taryn’s voice speak those precious words again.  “I love you, Loki.”  The tenderness of her voice never failed to shake him.  His hands trembled with the ferocity of his longing to hear those words from her lips in person once more.  They’d had such a short time together.  Would she forget how amazing they were together?    

  
Would she reconsider?

  
Loki closed his fingers over the rose and sped up again, walking faster as if he could leave his restless thoughts behind.  Turning another corner, he strode though a little-used archway and emerged onto the practice fields.  The dusty expanse was deserted at this hour when all were attending the nightly meal.  He should be doing the same but he couldn’t face the thought of it, not even at the risk of his mother’s displeasure.  After so much effort spent to regain the trust and respect he’d lost in those few days he’d held Odin’s throne–much of it wasted on those who would never forgive him and had never needed much incentive to hate the misfit son of Odin anyway–tonight Loki had finally reached his limit of whispering voices and unfriendly eyes.  He needed space, solitude, quiet, and he thought Frigga would understand that.  She’d always understood him.

  
A movement out of the corner of his eye made Loki pause in his aimless wandering and he realized the practice fields weren’t so deserted after all.  Sif occupied one end of the field as she practiced.  Her sword form flowed like water against the sunset, long limbs and steel lithe and graceful, moving with a beauty that almost hid the deadliness inherent in the pattern.  If he hadn’t fought beside her so many times, Loki could almost have thought she was dancing.  As it was, he knew that she was every bit as lethal as she was lovely.

  
Sensing his presence, abruptly Sif spun around and tossed the short sword to him.  Loki caught it by reflex and raised an eyebrow at her–she’d tossed it lightly, rather than flinging it as if she’d like him to catch it through the heart rather than in his hand.  Certainly a welcome change from her behavior over the last endless weeks, but one he mistrusted immediately.  “Spar with me,” Sif commanded–she was never one to ask–already turning to retrieve another sword from the weapons rack nearby.  “I desire a challenge.”

  
He slipped the rose safely into his pocket again.  “The Lady Sif wishes to spar with the lowly Cowardson?”  Loki held the sword as lightly as his tone, but his guard was raised in all kinds of ways.  Sif had not offered a single friendly gesture since his return to Asgard, and for her, a demand to spar was just that.  “Would you not find a greater challenge in one of the fine warriors there?”  He waved toward the wooden practice dummies lined up near the fence.

  
She smirked at him as she chose a new sword for herself and returned to the center of the field.  “Of course, Loki remembers all taunts,” she said, not at all surprised that he’d recalled that one–a favorite of hers when they were much younger, when he’d taken to flinging blades and spells from a distance rather than diving wildly into the melee as did the rest of them.  “Perhaps I’m willing to go easy on you.”

  
“Unlikely.”  But Loki was already moving, shrugging off his long jacket to drape it safely over the fence where it wouldn’t be ruined by sweat, dirt, and possibly worse.  Clearly she wasn’t going to be put off, and besides, this might help clear his mind for a little while.  His endless walking wasn’t doing a damn bit of good.  “Perhaps you merely hope to make me bleed again,” he countered, taking up the sword again and swinging it a few times to get accustomed to its heft and balance.

  
Her smile turned sharp.  “Perhaps I do,” she agreed, and then she struck.

  
Loki parried her first attacks with ease–this time she truly was sparring, not attacking with intent to kill, and the difference was clear to one who’d fought beside her so many times.  But that didn’t mean he could let his guard down at all.  She slashed, jabbed, then kicked at his feet, trying to drive him to the ground.  Loki easily leapt over her foot and threw an attack of his own, kicking out to distract her while also throwing a punch that caught her on the jaw and knocked her down.

  
He’d learned the hard way that Sif expected to be treated no more gently than he’d treat a man when they sparred.  That was one reason Loki never minded that she hadn’t offered to do so with him more often.  Bitch that she could be, he still never particularly liked striking a woman, even if she was the Goddess of War.  But she didn’t pull her punches and expected no less from anyone she fought.  “My blood isn’t so easily spilled,” he warned as she rebounded to her feet with an athletic spring.

  
“I wouldn’t expect otherwise,” Sif replied, surprising him with a compliment.  She had always, always mocked Loki’s skill with steel, despite the fact that he could more than hold his own in battle.  She’d often insulted his ability to both fight and spellcast simultaneously, calling it a shameful trick rather than recognizing it as a talent that took prodigious skill to perform properly.  Receiving any kind of respect for his skill in battle from Sif, especially now, definitely threw Loki.  Their swords crashed and clanged again as they came together and danced apart.  

  
Loki purposefully let his gaze flick to her legs and she reacted instinctively, lowering her sword to block the telegraphed attack, and he struck for her head instead.  She brought her small shield up and locked his blade in the curved edge designed just for that purpose.  Her own sword dove for his suddenly vulnerable abdomen.  Loki countered by driving his shoulder into her chest with all his strength.  They both ended up in the dirt, struggling and wrestling for position.  Neither could land the killing strike and finally Sif kicked him in the groin (thank the gods for magic protections, Loki thought as the blow did no more than shift his balance enough for her to throw him off her) and they both scrambled back to their feet.  “You fight dirty, Lady,” he mocked.

  
“And you don’t, strangely enough.”  Sif panted for breath and Loki himself was winded but oddly satisfied.  This physical exertion was better for him than he’d thought–sparring with Sif made him concentrate in a way that studying spellbooks didn’t.  Books didn’t try to drive his balls into his throat if his attention lapsed.  “You’ve changed, Loki,” Sif said, still circling him.

  
He snorted at the obviousness of that, almost dropping his guard but catching himself in time to avoid a nasty slash to the shoulder.  “I am touched by your regard, my dearest Lady Tyrsdottir,” he murmured in his most courteous tone, and it was a double blow–his sarcasm and the title that chafed her so.  “I can’t imagine why that would have happened.”

  
She rolled her eyes but still managed to block his attack that would’ve disarmed a lesser fighter.  “Don’t be any more of an ass than you can help,” she said, striking back with enough force to make his hand tingle.  

  
“Never,” he laughed.

  
They broke apart, both warier now, and circled slowly.  Sif studied him closely but for now, Loki was content to allow her to set the pace.  She struck, testing his defenses, and retreated when she found them solid.  For several minutes, the clang of steel on steel, their grunts of effort, and the scuffing of boots on dirt were the only sounds.

  
Then she broke the silence.  “You’ve been here almost a full season, Loki.”  Sif had danced back to catch her breath, swinging her sword easily while not making any move to attack again just yet.  “That’s a record for you.  Don’t tell me something as insignificant as falling through a black hole cured your wanderlust for I won’t believe it.”

  
Suddenly Loki attacked, raining blow after blow.  Talking about travel would not help him stop thinking of how he longed to return to Earth at all.  Sif deflected every strike, but she had to work to do so, and Loki did not let up.  Finally he saw his chance, and although he took a punch to the head that felt like getting hit by Mjolnir, he ignored it and took the opening that allowed him to slide his sword tip all the way to her throat and touch her skin.  “Dead,” he said, and although there was smug triumph in his voice, Loki didn’t actually feel it.  Now that the match was over, thoughts of Taryn would return and torment him once more.

  
Sif froze for a moment, his steel against her throat, before inclining her head and lowering her sword, declaring him the victor.  “You didn’t cut me,” she said quietly, staring at him with clear surprise.

  
Loki tightened his grip on the sword and although he returned it to his side, he didn’t lower it.  “Did you expect me to?” he asked with feigned mildness.

  
Sif stared at him for a moment before finally nodding.  “You would have had justification for doing so,” she murmured, surprising him.  When he didn’t reply or lower his guard, she shrugged.  “I’m not good at this sort of thing, Loki, but I’m making the effort here.  Will you meet me halfway?”  He still remained silent and Sif finally smiled.  “You really are going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  
“Yes, since I have no idea what your meaning might be.”

  
Sif actually laughed at that.  “And you’re meant to be so clever,” she teased, and Loki actually took a step back, now quite suspicious.  Sif teased Thor and the Warriors Three, not Loki.  Yes, they’d been companions in many a battle, had saved each other’s lives more times than even he could remember, had once even shared a drunken night of passion that she’d never forgiven him for even though by his memory, Sif had been the aggressor.  Still, even after all these centuries, Loki had never had the ease with Sif that Thor did–even before he’d sat upon Asgard’s throne.  

  
Sif put her sword in its place on the rack and took a deep breath, her back to him.  “I wish I hadn’t judged you so harshly,” she finally said, speaking to the weapons instead of to him, but Loki heard every word and was frozen by them.  “We didn’t understand, Loki, and we didn’t try.  For that, I, at least, am sorry.”

  
She turned and scowled when she caught sight of his surprised face.  “I still say you were wrong,” she added, and he laughed dryly at that.  

  
“Some things never change,” he murmured, and finally unfroze his feet to approach the weapon rack and place his sword beside hers.  Then, meeting her halfway, he admitted, “Perhaps I was.”

  
Sif crossed her arms and looked up at him when he’d stowed the sword properly, and there was something in her piercing gaze that he instinctively shied away from.  Now she would ask to know his reasons, and he wasn’t ready to show anyone else his true skin.  Bad enough that Thor had seem him that way–

  
But she didn’t.  “From you, I’ll take that as a full acceptance of your culpability and a promise never to do it again,” she said, and there it was again–teasing.  “Whatever has changed you, it has done you good.”

  
He thought of Taryn and closed his eyes in a pained wince–every good change that had come over him had started with her.  Damn, but being away from his lady was torture.  “Why the sudden change of heart?” he asked, pushing the thought away.

  
“Not so sudden.”  He met her gaze and she shrugged at the question in his eyes.  “You’ve been here for three months, Loki, and have done nothing to confirm my suspicions of you.  I’ve spoken with Heimdall and he has told me what you swore to him.  He says that you have held to your bargain with honor.  I’m capable of realizing when I’m not seeing clearly.”  

  
Sif briefly squeezed his arm when he didn’t reply to that, but then a glint of a reflection caught her attention.  She walked to the center of the field and plucked something out of the dirt.  Loki jerked when he recognized the crystal rose–it must’ve fallen from his pocket during their wrestling.  “What is this?” Sif asked, dusting it off and turning it this way and that, admiring the way the light refracted within it.

  
Loki crossed the distance between them and reached out to take it from her.  Sif was too quick, however, and danced aside.  He made another unsuccessful grab for it before letting his hands fall to his sides.  “That is mine,” he said, his voice nearly blank, devoid of all emotion, as if that could fool her after he’d tried twice to snatch it from her hands.

  
Sif regarded him for a moment, one dark eyebrow raised.  “It doesn’t seem your style,” she teased, holding it up again.  The light caught the auburn curl trapped in the rose’s heart and she examined it with exaggerated care.  

  
“Please return it to me, Sif,” Loki said, fists clenching briefly before he forced them to relax again.

  
She smiled mockingly, holding it just out of his reach as if they were still children.  “A lock of hair within such a delicate flower,” she mused, turning it so the light spilled in rainbows from it again.  “I’ve never known you to carry such a token, Loki.  Ahh, now I know what must have brought you back to Asgard!  There are few Æsir with red hair.  Whose could it be?”

  
Losing patience, Loki lunged and grabbed Sif’s wrist before she could dart away again–she’d always forgotten just how quickly he could move when he wanted to.  He pried her fingers open and took the rose from her grasp.

  
Taryn’s voice rose from the flower at his touch.  “I love you, Loki.”

 

Sif’s jaw dropped and she stopped trying to snatch it away from him.  Loki felt his cheeks heat and turned away, clutching the rose. But she stopped him before he could walk away.  “I know that voice,” Sif said, the teasing gone from her manner.  “That’s your Midgardian professor, isn’t it?”

  
He didn’t turn.  “Leave it alone, Sif.”

  
“Yes, it is her.  I recognize the voice.”  As always, Sif ignored the command to stop prying.  Like any true warrior, when she saw a place of weakness, she attacked.  “Did she truly say that, or have you enchanted that thing with another of your–”

  
He spun around, glaring, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence– _another of your lies_.  Sudden rage flared at Sif’s assurance that Taryn would never truly say such a thing to him.  “It is none of your business,” he snarled, fist clenched around the rose so tight that the petals dug painfully into his skin.  

  
“If she truly said that to you, why are you here?” Sif pressed, impossible as ever to intimidate into silence.  She ignored his frown and continued, “Three months is a long time, Loki, and much can happen.  Midgard isn’t safe–Thor’s SHIELD allies tell us that much.  You are not exactly beloved on Asgard as you once were and others can travel freely between the realms.  Would you tempt fate so?”

  
Green magic leapt from his fingertips, striking sparks and flames around Sif’s feet.  “If you are threatening her, I swear by the All-Father, I will–” Loki growled.

  
Sif caught his shoulders in her hands and shook him impatiently.  “Don’t be ridiculous, Loki.  I liked her.  We all did.”  
“She is not unguarded.”  Loki’s glare held a warning all its own.

  
“I am glad to hear it,” Sif returned, calm in the face of his anger.  “But again I ask you, why are you still here?  In all this time, you haven’t left Asgard–Heimdall has confirmed it.  Don’t you want to go back to her?”

  
He stared at her for a long moment, reining in his temper.  With the anger gone, his longing to be returned to Taryn bit deep.  “Leave it alone, Sif,” he finally repeated, but this time he made no attempt to hide the weariness from his voice.  “Please.”

  
She stared at him for a long time, still holding his shoulders, before finally nodding and releasing him.  “You did not cut me, Loki, and I will not cut you,” she said as if that explained everything.  Sif turned away then and began walking back toward the palace.  When she reached the gate to the practice yard, however, she paused and looked back over her shoulder at Loki rather than walking on without him.  “Coming?” she said, every bit as brusque as she would’ve been with Fandral or Hogun or Volstagg or even Thor.

It threw him to be treated like that again, and abruptly he made up his mind.  “Yes,” Loki said, accepting without comment the gruff friendship she offered him.  Suddenly he wanted companionship more than he wanted solitude.  He grabbed his jacket from the fence and strode to her side.  He didn’t know where she planned to lead, but it was enough for now not to be alone with his thoughts.  “Yes, Sif, I’m coming.”


	6. Homecoming

The kingdom had turned out in force to welcome Asgard's First Son and his bride. The force of the cheers was like a physical blow, reverberating in his bones as they rode through the city toward the Bifrost.

Loki breathed more easily the further the royal family rode down the Rainbow Bridge and the buffeting sound lessened. At least the crowds were not allowed to actually follow them down the crystal expanse, screaming their happiness the entire way. His horned helmet made it a bit easier, as well–thick as it was, it muffled the noise a bit, but not enough. Especially with the headache he nursed this morning after trying to drink away his restlessness last night.

After their sparring match, Sif had taken him to a dining hall far from Frigga's vaulted table. The Warriors Three were there, Volstagg already decimating the feast spread for them, Fandral entertaining a laughing maid perched upon each knee, and Hogun drinking alone at the far end of the table, silent and grim. While the three were clearly surprised to see Loki arrive in Sif's wake, they'd welcomed him with surprising warmth. To Loki's further surprise, Sif hadn't mentioned a thing about the crystal rose to any of them. He'd been grateful for that–the three would have mocked him mercilessly if she had. And then she had kicked Volstagg out of his chair and commanded him to fetch a cask of Frigga's best wine to celebrate Loki's return to their company.

Volstagg had happily done so, and upon his return proceeded to challenge Loki to prove his manhood by matching the enormous warrior drink for drink.

Once, Loki would've scoffed and declined with a biting sneer. Æsir warriors were always so predictable in their challenges. It seemed that they were only interested in three things–battle, booze, and bed. Loki had no problem with any of those, and in fact claimed mastery in all three, but there was more to life than simple pleasures.

Now, however, with Thor and Jane's eminent wedding filling him with nerves and the near-loss of the rose making him edgy, Loki had accepted Volstagg's challenge. Firstly, because this was the first true welcome any of them had offered them without Thor there to force the issue. And secondly, but possibly more importantly to Loki right at that moment, by the time this was over he would either be unconscious or dead. Either way, he would no longer be able to torture himself with thoughts of Taryn, so desperately wanted and so very out of reach.

Today, Loki was paying the price for drinking the mighty Volstagg under the table.

But he had little time for self-pity as the procession galloped down the repaired Rainbow Bridge. Odin sat majestic and kingly upon Sleipnir, with Frigga shimmering and lovely beside him on a bright golden mare. Loki followed on a spirited jet-black stallion a pace behind. Lady Sif, Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg–who, Loki was darkly pleased to note, looked even worse for wear than Loki himself–rode behind the royal family as an honor guard. Bringing up the rear was the empty golden carriage that would bear Thor and Jane into Asgard, pulled by two pure white thoroughbreds. The thunder of so many hooves on the crystal was deafening. Loki cursed all wine and concentrated on keeping his brain from leaking out his ears, then added a special curse for Frigga's enchanted vintage whose magic prevented him from using his own to cure his misery.

Finally, the procession stopped before Heimdall. The Gatekeeper stood before the newly rebuilt Bifrost Chamber, sword as ever at the ready, and all dismounted. "My King, all is prepared," the enormous Æsir said, bowing to Odin.

"Then bring them home, Heimdall," Odin commanded with a smile.

Loki didn't watch the Bifrost stab the sky with its blinding light. It was a wonder he'd seen many times, and the brightness of it might be the last test his immortality could take with this wicked hangover. He only returned his gaze to the Chamber when the whirling of machinery died away.

Heimdall bowed to Thor as he emerged from the Chamber, leading a beautiful, petite woman in a lovely red Asgardian-style gown. She looked almost terrified with nervousness. "My Prince, I welcome thee home, and thy lady as well," the Guardian murmured formally.

"I thank you, good Heimdall," Thor replied with the regal graciousness that came as easily to him as breathing. Then he exited the chamber, almost visibly bursting with pride, and brought his mortal beloved to stand before Odin and Frigga. "Father, Mother," Thor said, smiling hugely, "may I present Jane, of the House of Foster."

Jane curtseyed low before them. Loki tried not to wince too visibly as Frigga raised her up and embraced her while Thor beamed beside her. He forbade himself to imagine how it would be to present Taryn to his mother, to see Frigga accept her so warmly. As Odin spoke quietly to the clearly overawed Jane, Loki looked around him–studying the play of light in the crystal, the brightness of the new Chamber, the sunlight glinting off Heimdall's helmet… anything to keep from seeing that joy on Thor's face. It was too easy to slip back into his old thoughts and resent his brother, to fall into the trap of jealousy, of wanting what Thor had.

Thor was already turning away from his parents and guiding Jane toward Loki. He'd been dreading this but he forced a warm smile all the same and looked down at the little woman. It astonished him that this pretty but unassuming woman had wrought such changes in Thor. "The honor is mine," Loki said, bowing to her when Thor had embraced him and then introduced him to Jane. "My brother speaks of nothing but your intelligence and beauty. Truly, he has claimed a rare treasure from Midgard."

Jane blushed and repeated her curtsey. It was clear she'd been practicing but the movement was still somewhat awkward for her, and Loki smiled with every bit of charm he possessed to put her at ease. "He speaks often of you, as well," she said, returning his smile. "I have been anxious to meet the famous Loki."

"Whoa, that's Loki? Isn't he the Mischief God? Damn, Selvig, you never told me he's smokin' hot! Is he single?"

Loki's sensitive ears picked up on the not-quite-muttered comment and he raised an eyebrow at Thor. He laughed and beckoned to the others waiting behind Heimdall–apparently Jane had brought her friends to stand beside her on her wedding day, as any bride would wish. Loki found it hard to believe that Odin would agree to allow so many Midgardians into Asgard, but then again, he thought with a touch of his old jealousy, Thor had always been given more leeway than any other Æsir could dream of. Odin would probably have brought the entire population of Puente Antigua if it was Thor who asked it of him.

Loki shook those thoughts away–no bitterness, no jealousy–and paid attention as Thor introduced the young, curvaceous brunette. "Darcy, of the House of Lewis," Thor said, presenting her to Odin and Frigga as he had Jane. Loki immediately recognized the healthy dose of mischief in her character in the gleam of her eye and the quickness of her grin. The buxom young woman also wore a long red dress and curtseyed to Odin and Frigga, but when she did the same to Loki, she gazed at him through her lashes as though she'd like to eat him alive. Loki greeted her coolly and smiled with as little warmth as he reasonably could without being rude, and he didn't feel at all guilty when she turned away, looking disappointed.

"And finally Erik Selvig, a scholar of much renown in Midgard," Thor added as an older man stepped forward, his jaw slack as he took in the beauty of Asgard for the first time. That name, now, Loki recognized. This was the mortal man who had grown up with tales of the Æsir and had been so instrumental in Jane's work to restore the Bifrost. He also wore Thor's red reflected in the shirt and tie he'd donned with his very best suit. He bowed to the royal couple and almost seemed as if he would faint when Odin bade him rise and be welcome to Asgard. Loki greeted him as well and concentrated on ignoring the throbbing of his head.

Then Thor met Loki's eyes and smiled so broadly, Loki feared the top of his head would tip off. His blue eyes sparkled bright with the kind of mischief that Loki usually only saw in the mirror. He instinctively tensed, wondering what was coming. "The last introduction I will leave to you, brother," Thor said, and one final person stepped from behind Heimdall.

This woman was not wearing Thor's red, and her smile lit the world more brightly than the Bifrost's beam.

Loki's heart stopped. "Taryn," he breathed, almost afraid to believe what he was seeing, so badly did he want it to be real. He couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't breathe, lest he dispel the illusion and she vanish. Taryn began to cross the distance between them, resplendent in an off-the-shoulder dress of the deepest green–his own color–with her vibrant red hair elegantly pinned up. The combination left her throat bare but for the snake necklace he'd created for her. The emeralds he'd hidden for her to find–earrings, bracelet, and rings–glittered against her pale skin in Asgard's sunlight, and still the illusion didn't break.

She was really here!

Loki finally managed to shake off his paralysis and, forgetting royal reserve entirely, he ran to meet her halfway, catching her up in his arms and lifting her to meet his hungry kiss.

It lasted only moments but it felt like much longer and was, at the same time, far, far too short. Her unique, addictive taste and the heat of her arms around him rocked Loki to the core. He went back for more immediately, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, conquering, and he shuddered with pleasure at the feel of her fingers cupping the back of his neck and her lips yielding so deliciously to his demands.

Someone wolf-whistled (probably Fandral, and Loki was going to kill him for it later) and broke the spell. Taryn was blushing and smiling when Loki pulled away and reluctantly put her down again. But he didn't let her go. He wasn't sure if he could have had his life depended on it. "Oh man, that was such a breach of protocol," she whispered breathlessly, her arms still around his neck as if she'd been just as desperate to hold him as he'd been for her. "I was supposed to greet your parents first." But she didn't release him and the sparkle in her eyes told him clearly that she didn't regret it.

"I don't give a damn," Loki said, and he truly didn't, because it was so sweet to finally have her in his arms again that he felt more drunk now than he had last night. His headache had vanished in a surge of euphoria. He captured one hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "My lady," he breathed against her skin, and when her whiskey eyes darkened to chocolate with a surge of desire, Loki wished he could just say to hell with the ceremonies and wedding and teleport Taryn to his bedroom instead–it had been far too long. His mouth moved to her wrist and Loki thrilled at the leap of her pulse beneath his lips. "My love."

"Oh, Loki, I missed you," she whispered back, and then Thor was beside him, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing as Darcy lamented to Jane, "Damn it, he is definitely not single… that's so not fair!"

"Our parents are most anxious to meet your lady," Thor reminded him gently, looking almost insufferably proud of himself for this surprise.

Loki couldn't fault him for that. Rarely had he been taken so completely unawares. Taryn took a deep breath, clearly nervous at the prospect of meeting Odin and Frigga, these legendary figures she'd studied for so many years, but Loki smiled and brushed his lips over hers again just because he couldn't help himself. Gods, the scent of her, the softness of her lips–!

He couldn't let himself forget where they were. "Come," Loki said when he reluctantly pulled away, tucking Taryn's hand into the crook of his elbow and leading her toward his parents just as he'd imagined only moments before. "Don't be nervous," he whispered when he felt the tremors in her hand. Of course they would love her as he did–anything else was simply unimaginable.

Loki bowed to his parents when they stopped before the royal couple. Taryn was far more graceful in her deep curtsey than either Jane or Darcy had been, and had it not been for the very tight grip she kept on his arm, Loki could have believed she was completely composed at meeting the All-Father and the Queen of Heaven. "It is my deepest pleasure to present to you Taryn of the House of Roswell," Loki introduced her, pride clear in his voice, "Alansdottir, mistress of Æsir lore and scholar of Midgard."

"Rise, child, and be welcome to Asgard," Odin bid, and when Taryn did, he smiled at her. "Thor tells us you are the one who worked the miracle that returned our lost son to us."

She blushed and bowed her head modestly. "I had little to do with it, my Lord. It was his own wish to return," she said, but Loki wouldn't have that.

"It was indeed for her sake alone that I came," he overrode her and only smiled when she shot him a speaking look. Odin and Frigga would honor her for everything, he was determined of it. She was a miracle and he would not allow her to be seen as anything less.

Frigga stepped forward and embraced Taryn just as she had embraced Jane. Something inside him tightened almost to the point of pain at the sight, but it was sweet, not the bitterness to which he was so accustomed. "You have given me my dearest desire by uniting my family once more," Frigga murmured, and if Loki hadn't been standing so protectively close, he wouldn't have heard her at all. "You will never know what horrors you prevented by speaking to Loki in that bookshop. As you have healed my son's heart, so have you healed my own, and I am in your debt. Ask anything of me and I will gift it gladly."

That finally succeeded in overwhelming Taryn. She blinked rapidly as tears came to her eyes, reaching out and finding Loki's hand when Frigga released her. He squeezed her fingers tight. And as she'd done when Loki had offered her any blessing, she immediately said, "All I want is for Loki to be happy."

"Then know that you have a home here as full citizen of Asgard, should you wish to accept it," Odin said, and for the second time in as many minutes, Loki's heart stopped with shock. "For we are aware that your world is no longer safe for you, and these past months have shown clearly that our son will never be happy where you are not."

Taryn curtseyed deeply again and Loki knew she was fully aware of the honor she'd been given. Asgard was not an open realm where outsiders were ever given access, much less citizenship. "I am speechless," she whispered, pressing the hand Loki didn't hold to her heart. "Truly, Your Majesties are generous."

"It is not half of what we owe you," Frigga said, "and you may call us by our names, as one we would fain call daughter ought."

Thor laughed then, a booming laugh of unrestrained joy. "Now, brother, you truly owe me something great for this day!" he cried, and Loki couldn't help grinning at Thor's enthusiasm and generosity as he realized just who had told Odin and Frigga of Taryn's troubles with SHIELD and suggested she be offered sanctuary in Asgard. Had Loki really thought Thor too caught up in his excitement at bringing Jane to Asgard to notice Loki's misery without his own love? Had he truly, just minutes ago, resented him for being able to talk Odin into agreeing to almost anything? Loki must've been insane.

"I do indeed," Loki agreed, wrapping Taryn in another tight hug as Odin and Frigga returned to their horses. "Thank you, Thor."

Thor squeezed his shoulder and inclined his head. "Like your lady, I wish only for your happiness, brother," he said, and Loki had to swallow hard past the sudden lump in his throat. Thor pretended not to see it as he bowed to Taryn. "I beg your pardon, but I must attend to my guests. May I leave Loki in your hands for a few minutes?" he asked, eyes gleaming.

Taryn clearly recognized his attempt to give them a little privacy. "You may leave him in my hands forever. I will take good care of him," she said, resting her head against Loki's chest in a simple gesture of affection, and he thought his heart might burst with joy.

Thor, Jane, Darcy and Erik greeted the Warriors Three and Sif then as old friends as Heimdall brought several chests out and stored them in the base of the golden carriage. Loki tuned them out, knowing that these moments were the last privacy he would share with Taryn for far too many hours. "I can't believe you're here," he murmured, breathing deep the scent of her, reveling in her warmth in her arms.

"I can't believe I'm here either," Taryn agreed, hugging him back just as tight. "My God, this place is more beautiful than anything I could ever have imagined. But even more than that, I can't believe Odin just offered me citizenship in Asgard! It's like a dream."

"If this is a dream, please, never awaken me," Loki said fervently, and she laughed. He kissed her softly, making it last, wishing with every fiber of his being that they had time for more than this. "I have missed you most abominably, my lady," he murmured when he pulled away, forehead against hers again, arms still locked tight around her. "All the wonders of Asgard are desolation without you. When you stepped out of the Chamber, my heart returned to me. Now I am whole for the first time since we parted."

Taryn shivered a little in his arms and he saw her brilliant smile. "Silvertongue," she whispered, the name an endearment on her lips.

"Every word is true," he insisted. Finally he pulled away and smiled down at her, admiring the exposed sweep of her throat, the deep green gown against her pale skin, the Oroborous necklace adorning her neck. "You are stunning," he said simply, taking in every last detail that proclaimed her his.

She rewarded him for the compliment with another kiss, and when she pulled away, she was grinning. "And I really can't believe how freaking hot you are in those Satanic horns. That should be ridiculous and yet you still manage to look edible. How do you do that?"

Loki laughed, wishing again that he could skip all the processions and pageantry that were coming, transport them away, lock her in his bedroom for the next week and ignore the world. Then Thor shouted to him and he raised his head from hers reluctantly. "This is the last vaguely private moment we're going to have for quite a while," he said softly. "Are you ready for some seriously boring hours of ceremony?"

Taryn leaned up and brushed her lips over his. "I'll pass the time thinking of all the things I'm going to do to you when I get that armor off you," she whispered against his lips. "And you can pass the time imagining what surprises I have hidden for you under this dress."

That mental image made him groan. Loki didn't want to do it, but he finally released her from his embrace and led her toward the waiting horses. Frigga had already mounted and Thor, Jane, Darcy, and Erik had climbed into the golden carriage. But Loki drew Taryn past the carriage and didn't stop until he'd reached his stallion. "Ride with me," he said, because even though she wore his color and his symbol, he wanted no one to be in doubt that this gorgeous creature was his woman.

And when Taryn nodded, he lifted her atop the stallion and mounted behind her, drawing her into his lap side-saddle and wrapping his arms around her to hold the reins. She slipped her arms tight around his waist as the stallion danced at the unfamiliar weight and Loki soothed the beast with his knees, not wanting it to frighten her. The Warriors Three catcalled again and Sif especially gave him a leering smirk. Loki ignored them and turned his attention back to the woman in his arms, but Taryn wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was caught on Sleipnir as Odin mounted the enormous stallion in one smooth movement. "Is that–" she said, wonder in her voice.

"Sleipnir," Loki finished for her, and nodded with pride. "Yes, he is."

Her gaze traced every line of the gigantic eight-legged horse, fascinated. "And you truly birthed him?"

Loki laughed. "Clearly we have been apart too long if you think I have the equipment to give birth to anything."

Taryn blushed at his teasing. "Well, I know very well that you are a shape-changer!" she protested, smacking his arm. "And the stories said–"

"The stories say many things about me," Loki told her as Odin and Frigga began to lead the procession back toward the palace and the roaring crowds surrounding it. "The truth is far less interesting, I'm afraid. I created him from the best of Svadilfare and other noble horses, mixed and bound with a bit of magic. No kinky horse-sex required," he added, because it seemed best to nip that misunderstanding in the bud.

Taryn's gaze was glued to Sleipnir as they rode. "He is magnificent," she breathed. "Absolutely gorgeous." He smiled at her praise, agreeing fully. The stallion was one of Loki's greatest achievements.

But soon other wonders claimed her attention, and Loki thrilled at her every astonished gasp. How he'd ached to show her Asgard! Now she would see its full glory, and even if the cheers and sparkling banners were to welcome Thor rather than Loki, it was still an amazing way to see the city for the first time. He held her close as they passed through the wide-flung gates, pointing out wonders to her and bursting with pride that all of Asgard would see her in his arms and know that this beauty had chosen him, Loki, not Thor.

That to this woman, he was not second.


	7. Misdirection

They arrived at the castle’s gates and Odin and Frigga dismounted.  Loki lowered Taryn to the ground before swinging himself out of the saddle and giving his reins to the waiting stable hand.  Taryn took his proffered arm and Loki followed the royal couple up the wide stairs and into the enormous, shining palace.  Seeing it through her eyes now, he appreciated the beauty and symmetry of it anew.  “Whoa,” Taryn breathed as the splendor of the grand entrance hall came into view.  “You grew up here?”

Loki smiled, wanting to put her at ease.  Much as she’d understood that he was an Æsir prince, seeing the wonders of Asgard had clearly brought home to Taryn all that meant much more clearly than any stories could ever have done.  “Thor and I used to hide right there–” he pointed to a column nearly hidden by an enormous, golden statue, “–and watch guests arrive.  Sometimes we would try to trip them,” he admitted.

Taryn shook her head at the mental image.  “You would,” she said, returning his smile, but there was still a lot of awe in her gaze.  “I’m surprised you didn’t turn their clothes into frogs or something.”

Loki laughed.  “Only because I didn’t think of it.”

Another huge doorway opened before them, and this time when Odin and Frigga passed through, cheers met them with such force that Taryn’s steps faltered beside him.  Loki covered her hand with his and squeezed gently before leading her into the cavernous room ahead of Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg.  “Peace,” he soothed softly.  “As soon as my brother shows his face, it will get ten times louder.”

Thor and Jane entered before Taryn could reply, and the screaming adoration of the crowd immediately proved Loki right.  Taryn winced at the volume.  Loki murmured a little spell to muffle it and she shot him a grateful glance.  He winked, and then they had arrived at the stairs of Odin’s throne.  Fandral unobtrusively escorted Darcy and Erik toward a grouping of three chair set just off the golden path.  Loki didn’t want to release Taryn even for a moment but there was no choice.  He saw her seated in the chair and took his place on the stairs before Odin’s throne, one step above Sif, one below Frigga.  

Odin stopped before his throne, majestic in his shining armor.  He claimed Gungnir and watched Thor and Jane approach from the magnificent dais.  When the couple reached the bottom stair, Thor raised Mjolnir high and the crowd fell silent.  “This woman I would have for my bride, if the All-Father will give his blessing,” Thor proclaimed, his voice strong enough to be heard to the ends of the hall.

“I give it gladly,” Odin replied without hesitation.  “More, I will it to be so on this very day.  Make ready, all Æsir, for today Thor Odinsson takes a wife!”

The crowd went crazy.  Loki had to smile at Odin’s words, as though the preparations for Thor’s wedding hadn’t been underway since almost the moment he and Loki had arrived in Asgard three months ago.  Thor lifted Jane off her feet and kissed her passionately, bringing the Æsir to almost frenzied levels of glee, and Loki glanced down at Taryn.

Would they cheer so if it were Loki who stood before them instead of Thor?

Loki shook his head sharply to clear it.  No bitterness–no jealousy.  At Odin’s signal, the party followed the All-Father past the throne and out the hidden door behind it.  The crowd’s cheers vanished as the door closed behind them, and the blessed quiet was a relief.  “Whoa,” Jane gasped, clinging to Thor as if stunned by a blow.  “That was way louder than I thought it would be.”

Odin smiled at Jane.  “Thor is greatly loved by his people,” he said, his pride clear in face and voice.  “They are naturally happy to finally meet his beloved.”

Thor beamed at Loki, who had gone to Taryn and wrapped his arm around her again the instant she’d entered with Darcy and Selvig, unable to stay away.  “And not just mine,” Thor said, his grin lighting the room.  

Loki waved that away.  “This is your day, brother,” he demurred, but he couldn’t help thinking again of standing with Taryn before the All-Father and asking Odin to bless their marriage.  Of claiming her before all the Æsir.  The thought was too tempting and he pushed it away.  Instead of dwelling on that potent image, Loki smiled at Jane, who still looked shaken.  “I could create a little spell to dampen the noise for you, if you wish,” he offered. 

“Oh, God, please,” Jane accepted instantly, clearly overwhelmed at the thought of enduring the roar of the crowd again.  “I’m a scientist, not a rock star.  I can’t deal with all that.”

“Me too!” Darcy cried, and even Erik Selvig raised a hand hopefully.  

Then Volstagg, cradling his tender head, also stepped forward.  “I too beg your mercy, Spell-weaver,” he groaned, and the other warriors laughed at his pallor and clear misery.  “It isn’t funny!” Volstagg lamented, then winced at the loudness of his own voice.  

“Of course, Volstagg,” Loki said, a little touched that the warrior would ask him for magic when, like the rest of Thor’s company, the huge fighter had never much valued it.  Even the way he’d said Spell-weaver had been respectful, not mocking.  Loki murmured his little spell again, adjusting it so the words of the ceremony would not be muffled, and then sent it out to settle over all the ears in the room.  

“Nothing sounds different,” Jane said doubtfully, reaching up to feel her ears as if expecting to find earmuffs or something.

“It will,” Loki assured her.  “When it’s needed.”

Darcy grinned.  “Magic is so frickin cool.”

Frigga came forward then and took Jane’s hand and, to Loki’s surprise, Taryn’s as well.  “Come, Sif, Darcy.  It is time we leave the men to their own devices and prepare the bride,” Frigga announced with a smile, drawing them away with her.

Thor and Loki released their women with equal reluctance.  Frigga just smiled more deeply at that but didn’t pause, and a moment later, all the women were gone.  Loki turned to his brother and gave a smile of his own–this one decidedly wicked.  “Midgard has a delightful tradition of a bachelor party, brother,” Loki said.  “I’ve a mind to adopt it for you on this occasion.”

Odin shook his head.  “I’ll leave you to get into trouble on your own,” he said, but his tone held a fond jest that Loki was no longer used to hearing in relation to anything he suggested.  “The ceremony will commence in two hours, Loki.  Don’t make your brother late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Loki promised, and despite his evil tone, he meant it.  Today Thor had regained all the loyalty and affection Loki had ever given him.  He wouldn’t ruin this day.

Fandral chuckled as the All-Father left.  “So, tell us more about this bachelor party,” he said, his own eyes sparkling with mischief.  “It sounds promising.”  Of all the warriors, Fandral had been most akin to Loki in temperament and propensity for troublemaking.  

“It will not endear you to your Taryn if you deliver Thor drunk to his wedding,” Hogun warned after Loki explained the custom, and Volstagg groaned at the mention of drink.

“Remember, brother, that whatever you do to me, I will return to you one hundredfold on your own wedding day,” Thor warned, and Loki merely raised an eyebrow at the threat.

“You may try, brother.  You may try.”

The six of them–Thor, Loki, Erik Selvig, Hogun, Fandral, and Volstagg–retired to Thor’s chambers after Odin and the women had left.  Loki had already arranged for a barrel of mead to be brought to the room–definitely not Frigga’s wine–and a servant poured mugs for them all before leaving the warriors alone.

As soon as the door closed behind the maid, all eyes turned to Thor.  “Nervous?” Loki asked with amusement as Thor drained his mug in one long draft.

“Odin’s Beard, yes,” he groaned, and when he rubbed a hand over his face, it shook visibly.

“Of course he’s nervous.  It’s the end of life as he knows it,” Fandral commiserated.  He collapsed onto a padded bench as though too grief-stricken to stand.  “No more spontaneous adventures, no more carousing, no more warm and willing wenches, no more fun.  I couldn’t imagine being with one woman for the rest of eternity.”  He shuddered theatrically.  “It’s a fate worse than death.”

“Now, Fandral, there’s no need for such gloom,” Loki disagreed, speaking up on his brother’s behalf as Thor refilled his mug with entirely too much determination.  “There are benefits, you know.  One woman for the rest of eternity means she will please him better than any other–there is nothing better than a lover who knows you well.  Also, Thor will have the assurance of knowing she will always be there at the end of every adventure.  And of course marriage means children, when the time comes,” he added, knowing how his brother had always longed for sons and daughters of his own.

Volstagg shot Loki a look from beneath his bushy eyebrows.  “Sounds like something you’ve spared more than a little thought on, Silvertongue,” he said shrewdly.

Fandral grinned and clapped Loki on the shoulder.  “Indeed,” he agreed.  “That was an exceedingly comely wench who greeted you on the Bridge, and quite the kiss she gave you.”

Loki felt his cheeks heat and disguised it with a cough.  The God of Mischief did not blush, even if he could still taste that kiss.  “My lady is no wench, scoundrel,” he replied with deceptive mildness.

It didn’t fool any of them.  They’d known Loki long enough to know that the milder his tone, the hotter his temper.  All of them, even Hogun, grinned.  Loki ignored them all and frowned as Thor downed his second mug of mead as fast as the first.  “Slow down, brother, before you make yourself useless to your Jane tonight.”

Thor put the empty mug down and shuddered.  “I want to wed her.  I truly do,” he muttered, but his voice sounded almost plaintive.  “So why do I feel like I’m drowning?”

“Perhaps because you’re swimming in mead?” Fandral suggested, grinning.

Selvig moved Thor’s mug out of his reach and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders.  “It is natural for a man to feel so before his wedding,” he said soothingly.  “Do not let it distress you too much.  Just keep reminding yourself that you love Jane and this is what you truly want.”

“And if it is not,” Hogun interjected, speaking for the first time, “then we are here to help you escape.”

Loki laughed with the rest of them as Thor shook his head firmly.  “No, I want Jane for my wife,” he said, and this time he sounded like he meant it.  He squared his shoulders and repeated it.  “I want Jane for my wife.”

“And soon you shall have what you want,” Loki said, squeezing his brother’s arm.  

Thor took a deep breath and nodded.  Then he grinned at Loki, and the Trickster braced himself for the attention to fall back on him.  Too bad Thor’s method of forgetting his own marriage fears seemed to be putting Loki on the spot instead.  “Soon, I think we will be doing this again.  Taryn is a fine woman, brother.  You have already put your symbol around her neck–when will you put a ring upon her finger?”

Loki waved a hand, again dismissing the suggestion, but Volstagg hadn’t been off the mark.  Loki would’ve been lying more than usual if he tried to pretend he hadn’t considered it.  The thought of Taryn as his wife sent a thrill straight through him.  “This is not my day,” he replied simply.  It was too soon to think of marrying Taryn.  There were no doubts in his mind, but the change from friends to lovers was still very new.  He wouldn’t risk pressuring her.  “Concentrate on your own wedding, brother, and don’t try to drag me down the aisle with you.”

“We all saw that kiss, Loki,” Fandral said, laughing wickedly and nudging him with an elbow.  Loki pointedly shifted away from the warrior, radiating cold dignity.  “Something tells me there would be no dragging involved.  Silvertongue indeed!”

Loki again felt his face heat as he recalled Taryn calling him the same thing the first time he’d made love to her.  He started to reply, to again try to shift the focus off himself, but suddenly heard Taryn’s voice in his mind as the Oroborus necklace’s magic called out to him.  “… Thor and Loki traveled to Jötunnheim and feasted at the home of Thrym, a stupid giant who was also cunning.”  He grinned, recognizing the tale Taryn had started to tell.

“Oh, ho!” Volstagg boomed, laughing and waving his tankard at Loki.  “Look at that smile, lads!  Have you ever seen such an expression on Loki’s face?”

They thought his grin came from Fandral’s comment.  Thor laughed and Loki considered correcting their misapprehension, then dismissed the idea.  Let them think what they liked–besides, the memory of his lady’s kiss was more than enough to make him smile.  He shrugged and took a gulp of his own mead.  “You should know, brother,” he said when the laughter had died away, “that Taryn is telling your Jane the story of Thrym.”

Thor stopped laughing and went pale.  “She isn’t!” 

Loki grinned wickedly.  “Oh, but she is,” he said gleefully.  He listened for a moment and his smile widened.  “In exquisite detail,” he added.

Thor grabbed Fandral’s mug from him and drained it even faster than the two that had gone before, ignoring Fandral’s protests.  “Then you tell us a tale, Loki,” Thor pleaded when he set the empty vessel back down.  “Distract me.”

Loki raised an eyebrow.  “What kind of tale would you like?”

“Something to make him laugh,” Fandral answered for him, as Thor was currently occupied with trying to get Selvig to release his mug so he could have more ale.  “He needs to laugh or he’ll go even more insane than he already is.”

Loki nodded and thought for a moment.  Then he grinned.  “Then I shall tell you all the tale of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.”


	8. The Tale of Thrym

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Padraic Collum who introduced me to the tale of Loki, Thor, and Thrym in his book The Children Of Odin. It’s been retold in my (well, Taryn’s) words as an excellent example of the sheer badass awesome that is Loki. Can’t you just hear him laughing his godly ass off during the whole thing? Enjoy!

Darcy followed Jane, Thor’s mom, and Loki’s girlfriend through what felt like endless halls, Sif quiet beside her.  It wasn’t something Darcy was used to.  “So, what happens now?” she asked the warrior goddess as she twitched the long dress out of her way yet again.  Darcy was remembering all kinds of reasons why she never wore dresses like this, that was for damn sure.

“We prepare Jane for her wedding,” Sif said, and when Darcy gave her a well, duh look, she elaborated.  “Traditionally, preparing the bride means that her mother and any married friends take her aside and explain to her what to expect on her wedding night, give a few tips on how to please her husband, that sort of thing.”

Darcy snorted.  “Hate to break it to you, but she and Thor have already bumped uglies and the next morning he didn’t look like a man who had complaints.”

Sif choked at that, her gaze flying to Frigga’s back, but the Queen gave no indication she’d heard.  “In that case, we merely give her moral support and help her do up the hard-to-reach buttons,” Sif said in a slightly strangled voice.

“Oh, okay then.  Not a problem.”

Finally, they arrived at a door that looked like every other door they’d passed.  Sif opened the door and bowed her head as the Queen led Jane and Taryn inside.  Darcy trailed behind, feeling a lot like a puppy trailing along after it wasn’t particularly welcome anymore, but not knowing what else to do with herself.  Sif closed the door behind them and stood beside it like a sentinel.

Frigga raised an eyebrow when she saw that and paused in the act of pouring five goblets of deep burgundy wine.  “Sif, you are not here as a guard,” she chided gently.  “Come, join us.”  

Jane and Darcy accepted the glasses Frigga offered, then sank down onto the pillow-strewn couches.  Sif did the same but carried her wine to the window overlooking a mind-numbingly beautiful vista of Asgard, looking like she’d be far more comfortable if she’d gone with the men instead of the women.  Darcy couldn’t blame her–apart from Volstagg, who was way too freaking hairy for her tastes, all Thor’s friends had been seriously hot.

Not as hot as his brother, though.  Too bad Loki only had eyes for Taryn.  Darcy could just imagine that a God of Mischief would be absolutely incredible in bed.  “Are you nervous?” Darcy asked Jane, letting that fun train of thought go with a sigh.

“Nervous?  No,” Jane replied, then took a huge gulp of wine.  “Terrified?  Oh, yes.”

Frigga laughed and patted her knee.  “My son loves you beyond all reason,” she said, smiling.  “You will have a happy life together.”

“You have seen it?” 

The Queen looked at Taryn at the question, and although Loki’s girlfriend blushed, she didn’t back down.  Darcy thought there was probably more to that question than she understood, but Frigga didn’t seem offended even though she took a long time to answer.  “I See many possibilities, but I cannot say what I have Seen until it comes to pass,” she replied at last.  “As with you and Loki, the slightest variable can have enormous consequences for the future.”

Taryn bit her lip.  “Did I really change so much by speaking to Loki that day?” she asked, hesitant, directing the question to her cup rather than holding Frigga’s gaze again.

“You prevented Ragnarok,” Frigga said simply, and Taryn gasped and went pale.  Sif dropped her goblet, sending wine spilling over the floor in a crimson arc.  And even Jane was clearly shocked.  Those few words had spoken volumes to the rest of them.

They hadn’t even sent Darcy a text message.  “Okay, not following,” Darcy said, looking from face to face with whatever the complete opposite of understanding was.  “What’s the deal with the rock?”

“Ragnarok–the end of all things,” Sif murmured, definitely shaken.  “Not just the end of your world or ours, Darcy, but the end of time and space and the universe as well.”

“Holy crap monkeys,” Darcy whispered, wishing she hadn’t asked for the explanation.  It was less than comforting to know that this woman’s decision to say something to Loki had been the one thing that kept the world– _all_ the worlds–spinning.

“Loki is the one who will bring Ragnarok when it is time for the realms to be reborn,” Frigga said, the lone calm one in the room.  “It is his destiny and the cycle of death and rebirth is a good and necessary thing.  But it is not yet the correct time for it, and his anger would have unleashed it too soon.  It would have been beyond disastrous.  Your intervention led to the peace we enjoy in Asgard today, Taryn.  So yes, you did indeed change much with those few words.”

Taryn shook her head, but Darcy didn’t know what she was negating.  Personally, she thought putting that rock thingie off for a while was a damn good idea.  Seeing Jane about to hit her wine again and knowing what a lightweight her boss was when it came to alcohol, Darcy decided it was time for a quick subject change.  “Okay, this is supposed to be a party, right?  No more evil end-of-the-world rock stuff.  What’s an Æsir wedding like?  Give us all the deets,” she said, making her voice bright and cheerful to chase the shadows out of the room.

Frigga smiled and Jane brightened up, too, which was Darcy’s intention all along.  Sif and Taryn, however, still were too somber.  “Smile or else.  Don’t make me tickle you,” Darcy threatened Sif, and grinned at the incredulous look the warrior sent her.

“Try it and I will skewer you,” Sif growled.

“Ooh, touchy!  Does Fandral know you’re ticklish?” Jane asked, all innocence, but her eyes were sparkling.  

Now Sif glared at Jane instead of Darcy.  “No, and if he found out, we would all know who to blame.” 

Frigga laughed.  “All right, children, let’s not start a war,” she chided, and they all turned back to her.  “Jane, I understand you brought a gown with you from Midgard.  I had it delivered here.”  She gestured to a familiar trunk–the one Jane had threatened to disembowel Darcy if she touched as they’d driven to the Bifrost site.  “I admit to a terrible curiosity.  Will you show it to us?”

After that, the atmosphere changed to something like the one before Darcy’s sister got married.  The dress was produced from the trunk and exclaimed over, and Jane had blushed like fire when Sif told her Thor would likely swallow his tongue when he saw her in it.  Darcy helped her to struggle into the form-fitting gown behind a screen in the corner, then she took one arm and Taryn the other to button the tiny line of pearls from wrist to elbow.  More wine was poured–white, now.  Then Darcy wrapped a towel around Jane’s shoulders to protect the dress while she did Jane’s makeup–she was hopeless at it and knew it–while Frigga herself attended to Jane’s hair.

Through it all, Frigga told stories of Thor and Loki as boys.  Darcy wasn’t surprised to learn that they’d gotten into legendary amounts of trouble even back then.  Taryn handed pins to Frigga and said, “Tell Jane about Thrym next.  Now there’s an appropriate tale for the occasion!”

Frigga laughed out loud and Darcy hissed at Jane when she tried to open her eyes.  “Okay, what’s a Thrym?” she asked, using a tissue Sif handed her to erase the smudged eyeliner.  “It’s not another rock, is it?”

“No, it’s not another rock,” Frigga reassured her, and she was laughing, too.  “You tell it, Taryn.  I’m curious what take on the tale you have.”

Taryn grinned and bowed, acceding to the request.  “Alas, Jane, I hate to tell you this, but today will not be Thor’s first wedding,” she said, and Darcy couldn’t help but laugh at the mischief in the redhead’s eyes.

“I can tell this story isn’t going to go well for Thor and you haven’t even started yet,” Jane said, holding still for Darcy’s ministrations but smiling.  

Taryn grinned again, took a sip of wine to moisten her throat, and began.  “Long ago, when Odin wandered the realms in search of wisdom as Vegtam, Thor and Loki traveled to Jötunnheim and feasted at the home of Thrym, a stupid giant who was also cunning,” she said, and Darcy remembered Jane telling her that this woman was a professor of Norse mythology.  It showed in the smoothness of her voice as she told the tale.  “Thrym’s mead was as strong as Frigga’s wine, and the brothers became very drunk.  Drunk as they were, however, they would not pass the night in the home of a Jötunn, and they departed before the sun set.

“It wasn’t until Thor and Loki returned to Asgard that Thor noticed he no longer had Mjolnir, the hammer that he had sworn never to let out of his sight.  He could scarce believe he had mislaid it, so vital was Mjolnir to the security of the Nine Realms, but its loss could not be denied.  And Loki remembered that stupid Thrym also had a cunning streak and thought that the mighty hammer must still be with the giant, stolen while they were drunk.”

“Not smart,” Darcy said, sweeping shadow over Jane’s lids.

Taryn nodded.  “Loki decided that he must be sure before he accused Thrym of the theft.  He told no one of Thor’s loss, knowing the panic it would cause.  Instead, he went straight to the goddess Frigga.”  She inclined her head to Frigga, who smiled and gestured for her to continue.   _“Lend me your dress of falcon feathers, so that I may fly to Thrym’s dwelling and discover if Mjolnir is within,_ he said to her, and Frigga, knowing the vital importance of Thor’s hammer to the peace of all the Realms, gave it to him willingly.  Loki put on the falcon dress–”

“Your boyfriend is a cross-dresser?” Darcy snickered, and Sif joined in.

Taryn took it good-naturedly, smiling and nodding.  “Loki will do whatever is necessary to achieve what his goals,” she said with a little laugh.  “Although I’m pretty sure he draws the line somewhere, no one knows quite where that is… perhaps not even him.”

They all laughed at that and Taryn went on.  “Loki flew as a falcon to Jötunnheim until he came to Thrym’s dwelling.  The giant was outside, putting gold and silver collars upon his hounds, and Loki used the falcon’s keen sight to search for Mjolnir but saw no sign of it.  As he looked, he heard Thrym boasting to his dogs. _I put gold and silver upon you now, my hounds, for soon we Jötunn will have all the gold and silver of Asgard to bedeck our beasts.  For mighty Mjolnir, the defense of Asgard, is in my holding, and all the Nine Realms will be at my mercy._

“His suspicions confirmed, Loki spoke to Thrym from the falcon’s fierce beak. _We know that Mjolnir is in thy holding, O Thrym, but know thou that the gaze of the watchful Gods are even now upon thee._

“Loki Shape-changer, I see you watching me there! Thrym replied, not intimidated by Loki’s threat. _All your watching will avail you naught, for I have buried Thor’s hammer eight miles deep in the Earth, deeper than even the dwarves delve.  Find it if you can, Trickster, Serpent-tongue!_

“Such a search would be useless, Loki said, but imagine what a recompense you could gain by restoring Thor’s hammer to the Dwellers of Asgard!

“Save your cunning, Lie-smith, Thrym laughed, _for no recompense will move me to restore Mjolnir to Thor’s hand._

“Loki did not give up.   _Is there naught in all of Asgard that thou wouldst have for thine own, Thrym?_ he pressed, and tempted him with Odin’s Ring of Increase, or Frey’s ship, Skidbladnir.  Even Brisingamen, the most lovely of all treasures, he offered to Thrym, but all were refused.”

“What are–” Darcy began, but Jane hushed her.  Even Sif was leaning forward, clearly caught up in the story.

“At last Thrym tired of Loki’s temptations and said, _Only one thing could the Dwellers in Asgard offer me that I would accept in exchange for Mjolnir, and that would be she whom many Jötunn have tried and failed to win–Freya, the fairest of all in Asgard, for my wife._

“Now, Loki knew that Freya would never be given, but he could tell that Thrym’s patience with him had worn thin and that nothing would make the giant alter his demand.   _I will return to Asgard and deliver your request,_ Loki said, and he flew back to Asgard with a heavy heart.

“By this time, all of Asgard knew of Thor’s loss, and they shouted to Loki for news.  But Loki said nothing, flying straight to the hall where the Gods sat in Council, all save Thor, who was not there.  He kept himself apart from the rest of the Æsir, sick at heart at Mjolnir’s loss.”  Taryn paused to take another sip of wine and continued, “Loki told them all of Thrym’s demand, that he would accept nothing less than the hand of Freya, the fairest in Asgard, for the return of Mjolnir.  Freya herself was outraged at the suggestion and cast Brisingamen aside in her fury, utterly refusing to wed the stupidest of all the giants.”

“Her anger was a sight to behold,” Frigga murmured, eyes closed, smiling at the memory.  “None of us had ever seen her lose her temper.”

“She lost it entirely,” Sif agreed.  “Her necklace was the least of what she threw at Loki.”

“Tell me about that,” Taryn said, her eyes lighting up at the promise of details, but Darcy was interested now and kicked her leg.

“They can tell you later,” she insisted.  “What happened next?”

Taryn chuckled at her impatience, but she picked the story up again.  “Well, Loki, cleverest of all the Æsir–”

“–not that you’re biased,” Jane interjected, and Taryn laughed again.

“Not at all,” she agreed, tongue in cheek.  “Clever Loki had thought up a plan while Freya raged and the Council were downcast in grief that they would no longer be able to help the other Realms, now that Mjolnir was gone.  Loki said to them, _Let us trick Thrym, for although he has a cunning streak, he is very stupid.  Let us dress a warrior as Freya and deliver him to Thrym as his bride, and regain Mjolnir thereby._

“Who among all the warriors of Asgard could bring himself to do such a shameful thing, to go forth as a bride in Freya’s dress and veil, and deliver himself to Thrym to wed? the Gods asked, and Loki replied, _Well, Thor himself lost the hammer through carelessness, so let him do what is needful to gain it back._  And all the Gods agreed that this was fitting.”

Jane laughed out loud, almost causing Darcy to impale her eye with the mascara wand, but she couldn’t complain because she was laughing, too.  “Oh, God, I can’t wait to see Thor,” Darcy giggled, the mental image of Thor in a wedding dress and veil too good to pass up.  “This story freaking rocks.  Looks like cross-dressing runs in the family!”

Taryn grinned cheekily.  “Oh, it gets better,” she promised.

“Indeed it does,” Sif agreed, grinning more widely than Darcy had ever imagined possible.  The warrior woman had always seemed heavy on the ass-kicking, light on the laughter to Darcy, but she clearly delighted in this story.  “Go on, Taryn, tell the rest.”

“With pleasure,” Taryn said with a little curtsey.  She straightened and continued the tale.  “Loki went next to Thor, who sat dejected at the loss of his mighty hammer.   _There is but one way to regain Mjolnir, and the Gods in Council have decreed that you shall take it,_ Loki told his brother.  

_“No matter what it is, I will do it,_ Thor promised.   _Tell me what I must do, brother, and I will do even as you say._

“And, laughing, Loki said, _Then come, Thor, and don Freya’s bridal dress with all haste, for I am to escort you to Jötunnheim to wed Thrym, the most stupid of all giants._  And Thor gaped at him, horrified to his bones at the suggestion that he, mighty Thor, should don Freya’s bridal dress.

_“What madness is this, Loki?_ Thor protested, outraged.   _I, Thor, son of Odin, wear Freya’s bridal dress?_

“Indeed, Loki said, _and a veil over your head as well, and a garland of flowers besides.”_

They were all laughing now.  Taryn went on, mimicking Thor’s outrage through her own laughter.   _“You speak without sense!_ Thor shouted.   _I, the Mighty Thor, wear a veil and a garland of flowers?_

“Indeed, Loki persisted, _and rings upon your fingers, and a bunch of keys upon your girdle.”_

Darcy frowned, wondering what keys had to do with anything, but Frigga leaned toward her and murmured, “That’s every bit as feminine as carrying a purse.”  

Taryn nodded, eyes twinkling with humor.   _“Cease thy mockery, Loki Trickster, or I shall shake thee,_ Thor said roughly, but Loki only laughed again.

_“It is no mockery, Thor.  This is the one way to return Mjolnir, the Defense of Asgard, to thy hand.  Thrym will accept no other recompense than the hand of Freya for his bride.  When we are in his hall and he asks you to wed with him, you shall refuse until he puts Mjolnir in your hands.  Then when the mighty hammer is returned, do with him what you will.  And never fear, brother, for I shall go too as attendant and bridesmaid!  O sweet, sweet maiden Thor!”_

Now all of them were howling with laughter, and Sif had tears running down her cheeks.  “I never knew he said that,” Sif gasped, holding her ribs with the force of her mirth.  “It’s a wonder Thor didn’t smash him where he stood!  Sweet maiden Thor!”  And she was off again.

Taryn managed to sober enough to go on.   _“Loki, you did devise this plan to mock me,_ Thor accused his brother.   _I, in bridal dress!  I, with bridal veil!  The Dwellers in Asgard will never cease to laugh at me!”_

“Too right,” Darcy agreed, grinning.  “I’m gonna give him hell myself.”

_“Aye, brother, but never again will there be laughter in Asgard if you do not,_ Loki said, _and it was your own unwatchfulness that caused Mjolnir to be lost._  And knowing that Loki was right, and this was the only way to regain the mighty hammer, the Defense of Asgard, Thor bowed his head and did as Loki bid.  Thus dressed in bridal veil and dress, with a garland of flowers about his head and a ring of keys on his girdle, Thor in bridal guise and Loki as his bridesmaid set out once more for Jötunnheim and the dwelling of Thrym.”

“Ha, your man’s up two-to-one on the cross-dressing,” Darcy pointed out, keeping score with glee.

“And this is just one story of many,” Sif told her, grinning with wicked glee.

This time it was Frigga who hushed them.  “Shh, it’s about to get good,” she said.

“Better than Thor in a dress?”  Darcy couldn’t imagine anything funnier.

“Definitely,” said Frigga.  “Please continue, Taryn.”

Taryn drank the last of her wine and set the cup aside.  “A messenger had been sent from Asgard to Thrym,” she went on, “to tell the giant that his bride and her bridesmaid approached, so that he could have the wedding feast ready for their arrival.  And also Thrym was told to have Mjolnir at hand that it could be returned to the Dwellers in Asgard, for Freya would not wed him otherwise, and his hopes would be dashed just as had all the other Jötunn who’d coveted her before him.  Thrym, anxious to claim his prize, did all that he was bid.

“Thor and Loki, both veiled, arrived at Thrym’s dwelling and found that all was in readiness for the wedding feast.  When the brothers crossed the threshold, Thrym rushed over to welcome his bride.  He began to raise his bride’s veil to kiss her, but Loki quickly laid a hand on the giant’s shoulder.   _Do not do such a thing,_ Loki murmured in the giant’s ear.   _We Dwellers in Asgard are shy and modest, and Freya more so than any other.  It would offend thy bride greatly to be treated so before guests.  Forbear, withhold such affections until you are alone with your bride._

_“Aye, my son,_ said Thrym’s mother, taking Thor’s hand, _do not be so hasty, for these Dwellers in Asgard are more refined than we._  So speaking, she led Thor to the bride’s place before the wedding company and seated him at the table, Thrym to one side, and Loki to the other.  Veiled as they both were, and surrounded by the huge giants, none marked that Thor and Loki were much taller and broader than any Æsir woman should be as the feast began.

“But Thor, although he was dressed and veiled as a maiden, did not comport himself with maidenly reserve during the feast.  Thrym’s table was finely set, and Thor ate hugely, consuming eight whole salmon right away, and even though Loki nudged him and kicked his foot beneath the table, he did not heed his brother.  Finishing the salmon, Thor then ate an entire roasted ox.”

“Sheesh, and I thought eating a whole box of Pop-Tarts and three breakfast specials was a lot,” Darcy said, but she could picture it.  Thor’s appetite had become legendary during his stay with them at Puente Antigua.

Taryn mimicked the voice of a giant now.   _“These maids of Asgard,_ said Thrym’s guests, _they are modest in their affections, but it seems their appetites are lusty enough!”_  Darcy snorted.

“Loki, hearing those words, thought quickly of how to explain his brother’s greed, and then the Trickster shook his head sadly.   _It is no wonder she eats so, poor thing,_ he said, _for it has been eight days since we left Asgard, and so anxious was she to see Thrym, she ate not a morsel upon the way._

“Poor thing, poor thing, said Thrym, looking on Thor now with pity.   _What she has eaten is little enough, after such a fast._

“Not hearing this, Thor raised his empty mug toward Thrym’s mead vat, and the giant ordered his servants to bring his bride a measure of mead.  Thor drained the mug dry, but he did not stop with one measure.  Thrym’s servants were kept busy running from table to mead vat and back again, and although Loki nudged and hissed at his brother, Thor drank a full three barrels of mead.”

Jane cracked up.  “Sounds like someone didn’t learn his lesson about getting drunk around a giant.”

“Not so much, no,” Sif agreed.

“The giants who were guests at the wedding feast watched Thrym’s bride drain the mead vat and murmured amongst themselves,” Taryn said, grinning now, too.   _“Perhaps we are not so sorry after all that we failed to win a bride from Asgard for ourselves, they said._

“Thinking quickly again, Loki said, _Poor thing, poor thing, it is no wonder she thirsts so.  In eight days journey, so nervous was she to meet her betrothed, she touched not a drop, neither water nor wine nor mead._  And as before, Thrym was moved to pity, and thought that what his bride had consumed was not so much after all.

“But Thrym, too, had been at the mead, and he forgot Loki’s admonishment and took hold of Thor’s veil again.  Before Loki could prevent it, the veil slipped and revealed Thor’s eyes, hard and red with rage.   _How is it that such a fine maiden has such a frightening glare?_ Thrym cried, taken aback by the ferocity of Thor’s enraged eyes.

“One more time, clever Loki thought quickly.   _Poor thing, poor thing,_ Loki said, straightening his brother’s veil, _it is no wonder her eyes glare so.  So anxious was she to come to your dwelling, O Thrym, that she has not slept for eight nights._  And knowing that Thor could not hold his temper much longer, Loki said, _But now the time has come for you to join hands with your bride.  Bring out the hammer, Mjolnir, and make of it a gift to your bride, that she may appreciate the great value you have paid as her bride-price._

“Then Thrym, stupidest of the giants, rose and went out to bring Mjolnir into the feasting hall.  Thor could hardly restrain himself from leaping to his feet and seizing the hammer when Thrym strode back through the hall, bragging at how he had tricked Thor and won Freya for his bride, but Loki was able to restrain him.  Finally, Thrym placed the handle of Mjolnir in Thor’s hands, and Thor threw off the veil and smote him dead with one stroke.  The next tumbled the walls of Thrym’s dwelling down on the wedding guests and their cries of rage chased Thor and Loki from Jötunnheim to Asgard.  And thus was the mighty Mjolnir, the Defense of Asgard, won back from Thrym by the trickery and cleverness of Loki.”

All of them applauded when Taryn finished the story.  “You are a gifted storyteller,” Frigga praised, smiling broadly.  “And I notice you made Loki the hero of the tale.”

“Well, he totally was,” Darcy cut in before Taryn could say anything.  “Seriously, Thor acted like a moron!”  Taryn nodded, but she was smiling, too.  Then Darcy nudged Jane and grinned wickedly at her.  “Better hide this dress when you’re done with it,” she teased.  “I think Thor might rip some of the seams if he tried it on.”

Sif laughed and stood up.  “Thank you for the story, Taryn,” she said, reaching out and clasping Taryn’s shoulder briefly before moving behind the screen to change into her own dress–a floor-length red gown that matched Darcy’s.  

“Yes, thank you,” Jane echoed, reaching out and taking Taryn’s hands.  “If I get nervous now, I’ll just picture Thor in a wedding dress.  I’m sure that will help.”


	9. Project Runway: Asgard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having so much fun in Darcy's POV that I'm not ready to leave it yet. She's so snarktastic! (Yes, I made that word up.) I know this chapter is a little short, especially compared to the epic Tale of Thrym one, but oh well. As my son says, YOU GET WHAT YOU GET AND YOU DON'T THROW A FIT. So there! *snicker*

When Darcy emerged from behind the changing screen, Jane stood before the huge oval mirror standing in the corner, staring at herself as though hypnotized by the sight. Darcy had to admit that Jane was definitely a knock-out of a bride. Of course, it helped that Darcy had outdone herself with Jane's makeup, and Frigga had tamed her riotous hair into a soft, gorgeous style studded with diamonds. The dress hugged her curves from shoulder to hip, then flared slightly–not enough to overwhelm her petite figure–to a sparkling, appliquéd skirt and long train. "You look amazing," Darcy told her, and she meant it. "Thor's gonna faint."

"It is almost time," Frigga said, and Jane's hands visibly shook with a resurgence of nerves. "I must leave you for now, Jane. I'll return for you when everything is ready."

"Thank you," Jane said, biting her lip, and Darcy hugged her as Frigga left them.

"It'll be fine," she reassured this woman who had become more friend than boss. "Come on, you're about to marry a real, live  _god._  What's to be nervous about?"

"I can think of oh, so many things," Jane said, almost moaning it, and started to pace.

"Wait!" Sif shouted, but it was too late. The train of Jane's beautiful snow-white dress had already dragged through the spilled red wine they'd all forgotten.

Jane took one look and started to hyperventilate. "It's okay, it's just a little, no one will notice," Darcy babbled, but she was lying. It was a  _lot_. Jane's dress looked like she'd used it to sop up a puddle of blood. "We'll rinse it out or something, it'll be fine!"

Taryn took Jane's shoulders and made her look at her. "Don't panic, Jane," she commanded. "This is totally fixable. Loki, I need you. Can you come here, please?"

Darcy was about to tell Taryn off for offering Jane false comfort, never mind that she was doing the same thing, when the surface of the mirror rippled and Loki stepped right through it. "Holy shit!" she and Jane said in perfect unison.

Loki gave a little bow. "You called, my lady?" he said, going immediately to Taryn as though no one else was in the room.

Taryn gestured to the stained dress. "Help," she said simply.

Loki looked down at the huge stain and smiled. "Easily remedied, Jane, have no fear," he said, and with a wave of his hand, the stain vanished as though it had never been. Jane flung her arms around him, weeping with relief and babbling hysterical thanks. Loki gave Taryn a look of almost comical pleading when Jane showed no sign of letting him go, crying all over his chest as he awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. Taryn tried not to laugh as she rescued him, gently prying Jane away and steering her to Darcy to comfort instead.

"Look at what you've done to your makeup!" Darcy scolded, shaking Jane with no gentleness whatsoever. Her masterpiece–ruined! How the heck was she going to get this fixed before it was time to go? "Stop that wailing and sit down right now, we have to start all over! God, you're hopeless!"

Loki tuned out the rest of the tirade and concentrated on his Taryn. "You're my hero," Taryn told him, and she kissed him. Loki cupped her face in gentle hands and kissed her back, and it was so intimate that even Darcy–shameless voyeur that she was–felt a little awkward looking on.

Not that she let that stop her–he was certainly better eye-candy than watching Jane blow snot and mop the smeared and melted makeup off her blotchy face.  _He doesn't look much like a bridesmaid,_  she thought, amused, staring at the broad line of his shoulders and picturing him in a dress that matched hers and Sif's. Okay, so Loki was slimmer in build than Thor, but so were several mountain ranges, and the hands cradling Taryn's face so tenderly were unmistakably masculine. Loki just wasn't womanly by any means.  _Those giants had to be stupid,_  Darcy decided.

Loki was smiling broadly when she released him. Then he looked back to Jane, who was again sitting still for Darcy as she reapplied her makeup. "Do not take this amiss, Jane, but a little red on your gown might be appropriate," he said hesitantly, as if he expected to be rebuffed for offering his opinion.

Jane bit her lip and turned this way and that, trying to see herself from every angle, until Darcy thumped her in the middle of the forehead to make her be still again. "White's not my color, is it? I look washed out, don't I?"

"You are more lovely than any bride has ever been," Loki reassured her quickly. "I meant only that a touch of red would honor Thor, as it is his color."

Darcy smacked Jane's arm when she started to chew on her lip again. "Stop that, you're going to ruin your lipstick," she snapped. Then she belatedly realized why Taryn's dress didn't match hers and Sif's–Loki wore a different outfit of fancier armor now, including a floor-length cape like Thor's, but it remained as green as the one he'd worn to meet them at the Bifrost. And although Taryn's dress was a replica of Darcy and Sif's in every detail, it was rendered in a shade of green that exactly matched Loki's. Apparently this color thing was a big deal. "You know what, I think he's right. We should have put a little red on you," Darcy mused aloud. "Oh well, too late for that now. I can make your lipstick redder, though."

Jane wrung her hands, then turned to face Loki. "Maybe it's not too late," she said, and despite the nervous hand-wringing, her voice was hopeful. "Can you do whatever you did with the wine, only in reverse and on purpose?"

Loki nodded, serious. He tilted his head, studying the dress, and then murmured something Darcy couldn't catch and made a complicated little gesture with his hand. Jane was briefly enveloped in a haze of green light.

And then… things  _changed._

The diamonds in Jane's hair darkened into rubies. A thick band of red appeared at the hem of the gown and shaded the details of the appliqués on the skirt. Another band of red, this time thinner, swirling, chased along the bodice and also traced the hem of her veil. The touches were subtle, tasteful, and they looked like they'd always been there. At the last moment, Loki also repaired Jane's wrecked makeup, restoring it to the perfection it had been before her crying jag.

Darcy's eyes widened at this clear use of magic–she'd been able to explain everything else away as science, but this could be called nothing else. "Is that acceptable?" Loki asked them when it was done.

Jane beamed. "It's perfect," she said, turning again, admiring the changes from every angle. Then she ran back to Loki and hugged him tight again. "Thank you!"

Darcy marveled at the changes in Jane's gown. Seriously, if this was Project Runway: Asgard, Loki would win hands-down. It was gorgeous. When Jane released him from the hug, Darcy raised a brow and eyed Loki critically. "First cross-dressing, now makeup and fashion design? Dude, if you weren't so completely into Taryn, you'd have my gaydar jumping off the charts."

Sif choked and Taryn laughed out loud. Loki simply smiled, clearly not a bit offended, and something about that just made him that much sexier to her. Damn, it was a shame this guy was taken. Seeing a guy with such complete confidence that he didn't even blush when called out like that was just way too damn hot.

"Trust me, Loki is straight," Taryn said when the laughter died down.

"You're not even a little worried?" he asked as though disappointed. "You're  _sure_  I don't need to prove it to you?"

That got another laugh from the room, but Taryn narrowed her eyes and looked up at him, tapping her lips with a fingertip thoughtfully. "Hmm, now that you mention it, I've changed my mind. Yes, you definitely have to prove it to me."

"That's better." Loki wrapped an arm tight around Taryn's waist and pulled her toward the door. "If you'll excuse us, ladies," he said, and they all catcalled as he drew Taryn out the door and closed it behind them.

Sif snorted as the latch clicked. "Absolutely shameless."

But almost immediately the door reopened and Loki and a deeply blushing Taryn returned, Frigga right behind them. Darcy almost shot wine out her nose at the look on Loki's face–a combination of frustration, disappointment, and embarrassment, and she wondered just how often a god got caught by his mother when he was trying to make out with his girlfriend. It was priceless. "Dude, you so got busted," she crowed.

Loki pursed his lips in what was very nearly a pout. "Mock me not, mortal," he growled.

Frigga smacked his arm. "Behave, Loki."

He sighed but gave his mother a short bow. "I will go and inform Thor that all is in readiness," he told the room, but his gaze didn't leave Taryn. She smiled at him with such love that his clear disappointment faded away. Then Loki quite reluctantly returned to the mirror and, with one last longing look at Taryn, he stepped through again.

"Dude," Darcy breathed as the glass rippled and smoothed again. "That is one helluva trick."

But instead of looking as impressed as Darcy felt, Frigga frowned and Taryn didn't seem thrilled either. "I wish he wouldn't do that," Frigga sighed.

"You and me both," Taryn agreed, shuddering.

"And you both should know better," Sif said, leaving her post by the window to join them. "There is nothing that can control Loki. Now, are we ready to make Thor a married man?"

That lifted the worry from Frigga's face and she smiled brilliantly at Jane. "Absolutely," she said, and when she held a hand out to the petite woman, Jane took it and squeezed. "Come, child. It is time."


	10. I Do So Swear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the Viking Answer Lady's website (www. Vikinganswerlady. Com/ weddings, without spaces) for information on Norse wedding traditions. I've embellished quite a bit because she's right–there's not a lot of information on specifics. Odin and Frigga's roles and all they say are from me, the symbolism of the swords is from her, the information on the bridal-crown is from her, the words spoken at the sword exchanges are from me... you get the idea. And yay for ratcheting up Loki's frustration to the boiling point, and STILL not letting him get his lady alone! Yes, bwahaha, I am evil like that.
> 
> PS, I have no idea what Jane Foster's father's name was, so I made one up. If anyone knows what it really is, drop me a line in the comments and I'll fix it. Thanks!

The ceremony was interminable, at least to Loki. He stood beside his brother on the steps before Odin's throne, holding the ancestral sword that had belonged to Odin's father Bor, and watched as the honored guests entered in procession. First came Odin and Frigga, the crowd kneeling as they swept past and took their seats upon the pair of thrones upon the dais–side by side now, as befitted the King of Asgard and the Goddess of Marriage. In their wake came Sif and Volstagg, followed by Hogun and Taryn, and finally Darcy and Fandral. Arm in arm, they walked up the long,  _long_  aisle and then took their respective places to either side.

Loki didn't pay much attention to what came next, so intent was he on Taryn. By the Norns, she was beautiful! He could still hardly believe she was here. She held his gaze, smiling slightly, and he wished he'd mastered time manipulation so he could speed up this ceremony and get her alone. He vividly remembered what she'd said about having surprises for him beneath that gorgeous dress and literally trembled with wanting and curiosity.

Then the music swelled and Loki tore his gaze away to watch his soon-to-be sister-in-law enter the enormous ceremonial hall of Asgard behind Erik Selvig, who bore the new sword tradition required as a bride's gift to her groom. A brief flash of pride warmed him at the sight of the red he'd placed on her dress–a quick look at Thor's face showed that his brother definitely approved. Jane was a vision as she approached, her gown trailing behind her and leaving fragrant red rose-petals in her wake–another little addition of Loki's. Her unbound hair lay shining and loose about her shoulders, topped by the traditional bridal-crown. Made of braided gold and silver wire and adorned with jewels and rare flowers, it was a thing of beauty.

Resplendent in his own ceremonial armor, the God of Thunder flexed his fists nervously as his beloved came nearer. When she stopped before the steps, Thor descended and bowed to Selvig. The two men exchanged murmured words, a promise given, and then Selvig took his place of honor at the top of the row of Jane's attendants, standing nearest to Frigga. Then Odin and Frigga stood in unison and the wedding finally began.

Again, Loki's gaze locked to Taryn and found her watching him with equal intensity. The ceremony was ancient, powerful and beautiful. Odin and Frigga both spoke, reciting the words of power that would bind Thor and Jane, speaking of the duties of husband and wife, the honor to be gained by faithfulness, the shame that was the reward of breaking their vows.

Then Thor looked at Loki and he stepped forward to play his part in his brother's wedding, holding out the ancient sword to Jane. "This is the blade of Borr, father of Odin, father of Thor," Loki said, speaking slowly and clearly so that all in the hall would hear his words. "Long has this sword been a symbol of strength and a bastion of hope for the Æsir. Take this sword, Jane Anthonysdottir, and hold it in trust for the sons you will bear Thor, that by their honor and bravery they may increase its legend." With that, he knelt before her and offered her the massive sword, hilt-first.

Jane took it and lifted it as she'd been told to do, but she clearly struggled to do so–Borr had been a huge man, and his sword was enormous. Loki breathed a little spell to lighten it for her and she shot him a quick look of gratitude. "I will hold this sword safe for our sons, and their sons after," she replied, and her voice trembled very little. "Loki, son of Odin and brother of Thor, I swear this to you now."

Loki smiled and winked at her–she'd gotten it perfect. Then he rose to his feet and returned to his place a step below Odin as Erik Selvig stepped forward. He stopped before Thor, just as Loki had done before Jane, and held up the new sword.

"This blade is fresh-forged, its legend yet unwritten," Selvig said, and Loki definitely heard the nervousness in his voice. It was a fine sword, though–he wondered if Hogun had a hand in its making. The silver of its blade was marked down its length with a curling line of blue steel. It was more than beautiful, it was a mark of the blade's exceptional strength and the skill of its craftsman. Runes of bravery and blessing marked the blade and crosspiece. "I gift this to you, Thor, son of Odin, as a token of trust placed in you as Jane's husband and guardian. May its strength be a boon to you as you establish your house." Then he, too, knelt and offered the sword to Thor.

Thor took it solemnly and raised it high as Jane had. "I accept this fine blade and the sacred trust it symbolizes," he replied in a deep, carrying voice. "Erik Selvig, he who stands in the place of Jane's father, I swear to you now that I will devote my life to the care of this woman you have entrusted to me." Selvig smiled with clear relief that his part was done as he returned to his place near Frigga.

Then Thor and Jane both lowered the swords, turning them point-down, and Loki spoke another spell–this time, one Thor had asked him to perform before the ceremony. Upon the hilts of each sword appeared two gold bands, one plain, the other set with a large, intricately faceted ruby. As Frigga directed them, Thor and Jane exchanged the rings, sliding them over one another's fingers. "As you swear before me, so swear to each other," the goddess bid them as they clasped hands, rings now shining upon their fingers. "Eternal faithfulness, eternal love, eternal honor."

"I do so swear," Thor said, holding Jane's gaze.

"I do so swear," Jane repeated, returning Thor's loving look with her own.

Loki looked at Taryn and found her also gazing at him. His heart kicked in his chest. Was she also thinking of standing before the All-Father, exchanging these vows with him? He wished he dared to touch her mind and find out, but that would take more concentration than he dared to use right now. He still had a part to play in his brother's ceremony and he would not risk anything that might disrupt it.

"Then I declare it to be so," Frigga said, raising her hands and touching them both on the forehead in blessing. "By the blessed rite of marriage, Thor Odinsson, Jane Anthonysdottir, I bind you now to each other, husband and wife, forever. By my word, it is done!"

"And I also declare it to be so by the laws of Asgard," Odin boomed, raising his arms high in benediction. "Thor Odinsson–Jane Anthonysdottir–from this day forth, you are created as a new family with the full blessing of Asgard. This is my will and none by gainsay it. By my word, it is done!"

At that, the enormous crowd erupted in cheers. Loki called on his magic once more and sent fireworks erupting over the heads of the crowd, the sparks shimmering into flowers as they fell, finally fading into perfumed mist. Thor and Jane kissed, sending the gathered Æsir into further paroxysms of joy, before making their way together back down the long, long aisle. Odin and Frigga followed Thor and Jane out, arm in arm, and then the rest of the wedding party began to file out after them.

Loki, however, firmly elbowed Hogun out of the way when he went to offer Taryn his arm again. "Escort Selvig," he suggested, and Sif laughed as he led his lady down the aisle.

"That was really a beautiful ceremony," Taryn said as they followed Odin and Frigga out. "I wasn't sure what to expect. It's so hard to find reliable sources on Norse weddings, and there's very little in Æsir mythology about them."

Loki heard her easily despite the roaring crowd, another gift of the little spell he'd placed upon all of the wedding party. "When the Norse people were absorbed into Christianity, much of their traditions were lost," he agreed. "But the Æsir, of course, remember them all."

She smiled up at him. "You're my favorite historical reference," she teased.

"My lady, I swoon at your praise."

She laughed and squeezed his arm. "What happens now? A feast, yes?"

Loki nodded. "A feast, and then more feasting, and more feasting after that. It will go on and on," he told her, and there was more than a hint of a groan in his voice at the thought of sitting through so much revelry when all he really wanted was to get his lady alone. "A normal wedding feast can last for two days. For the First Son of Odin himself? I'm not sure the celebration will ever end."

She stared at him wide-eyed. "Good Lord. Do we have to stay the entire time?" She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I don't think I can wait that long to have you to myself, Loki."

His pulse surged and he grinned, happy to know that she was thinking along the same lines as he was. "We must only stay until Thor and Jane depart," he reassured her, "and from the way my brother is looking at his new wife, I don't think that will be very long!"


	11. Mead, Magic, and Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I pictured the wedding happening in that huge, HUGE chamber at the beginning of the movie where Thor's aborted coronation took place. Sheesh, just walking down that long-ass aisle had to take an hour…
> 
> Anyway, I'm deeply and profoundly glad y'all liked the wedding stuff because it ain't over, people–not yet, oh no, not by a LONG shot. What's the point of winding Loki up if I let him get Taryn alone so soon? Oh, no no no, we must make our God of Mischief suffer before he gets his cookies. *evil leer* Again, specifics (the sword across the threshold and through the pillar, the verse Jane says over the loving-cup) are from the Viking Answer Lady's page. All the other stuff is from me–the sword dance, the blessings, all that crap.
> 
> And yes, wedding feasts really DID last for days way back then. It was a mark of the rank of the couple to have the wedding feast last as long as financially possible. For the First Son of Odin himself, the heir to the throne of Asgard? Hoo boy… yeah, that shit ain't ending anytime soon. Also, the reason ancient people drank so much wine was that the water usually wasn't safe for consumption. They mixed water with wine because the alcohol content in the wine killed the cooties so you could drink something without getting hideously ill. Same with mead, and their beer was basically liquid bread–not much alcohol content, lots of nutrients. Kids, pregnant women, young and old and everything in between, all of 'em drank all the damn time, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I can get behind that.
> 
> Honey mixed with mead was something special, though. It was only drunk by a newly married couple, who drank it from a shared, two-handled loving-cup daily for one month after the wedding. This is where we get the idea of a honey-moon. I am waiting for this to come up at a pub quiz at some point where this knowledge will be useful to win me free beer. Alas, it has not yet happened, but I have faith.
> 
> Now, just for your edification, I want to share one bit of actual, historical fact that I decided not to use here. The wedding guests used to physically carry the bride and groom to their bedchamber, every guest carrying a torch to light the way and scare off any evil spirits or influences from following the new family. Then everyone would stand around the bed and observe the, ahem, shall we say, the ensuing festivities. Apparently they felt free to offer advice on the matter as well. Yeah, well, I can't really see Thor going for that, nor Jane, and thought we wouldn't lose anything by allowing them to do the deed in private. Seriously, I think even Darcy would agree that's taking voyeurism too damn far by half, amirite?

It seemed to take forever to leave the huge assembly hall. Outside, a new feasting-hall had been built just for the occasion. Thor led Jane to the door but stopped her before she could enter. Laying the unsheathed sword she'd given him upon the threshold, Thor scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside to the cheers of all around. Then he placed her back on her feet again, retrieved the sword, and surrounded by the watching Æsir, he thrust it into the thick, oaken central pillar with all his might.

The sword went clean through the massive beam, stopping only when the hilt lay flush against the wood.

Loki and Taryn joined in the cheering that greeted this feat of strength. "A test to prove his virility," Loki murmured in Taryn's ear as Odin and Frigga led the way toward the high table.

She laughed and blushed at the feel of his lips on her ear. "Then Jane's not going to be walking too well tomorrow."

"Neither are you," Loki promised, his voice deep with desire.

Taryn gave him a saucy look from the corner of her eye. "What makes you think  _you_  won't be the one worn out and limping?" she shot back.

He pressed a hand to his heart. "Promises, promises."

Then they had to pay attention again as Jane carefully filled a large, two-handled cup with mead and honey and brought it to Thor. She presented it to him over the ancient sword of Borr which was laid upon the table before him. Looking into his eyes, Jane recited, "Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle, With strength blended and brightest honor; 'Tis mixed with magic and mighty songs, With goodly spells, and wish-speeding runes."

"That's from the  _Sigrdrífumál,_ " Taryn murmured, recognizing it, and Loki nodded.

Thor lifted the cup to his father. "To Odin!" he cried, then drank before returning the cup to Jane.

"To Frigga!" she said, likewise raising the cup to the goddess, and drank as well.

"Now they're legally married," Loki whispered in Taryn's ear. "It's not official until they share the honeyed mead."

They joined the rest of the crowd in cheering as Thor kissed his new wife soundly. Then everyone converged on the long tables as the feast began. Taryn claimed a seat at the high table between Frigga and Loki, while Jane sat across from her between Thor and Odin. The petite brunette caught Taryn's eye and, grinning, shot a meaningful look between Taryn and Loki. "You're next!" she mouthed. Loki glanced down quickly to catch her reaction and was relieved to see her instant grin. She looked up at him and leaned against his shoulder with clear affection.

After that, hundreds of servants descended upon the hall, bearing platter after platter of food. Sigyn walked around the high table, filling the goblets of these most honored guests with wine as the platters circulated. Loki claimed the best of everything for Taryn as the trays went past and only stopped when she laughingly covered his hand with her own. "I'm not Thor at Thrym's house, you know," she said, looking down at the enormous quantity of food on her trencher.

Loki laughed and selected a slice of a apple from the assortment he'd claimed for her. "The Æsir like a woman with a healthy appetite, although perhaps not quite that healthy," he agreed, holding the slice up but pulling it back when she tried to take it from his fingers. "No, my lady. I will feed you."

Taryn held his gaze as she took a bite of the fruit. Her eyes lit up with wonder as the bright, sweet flavor burst over her tongue. "Wow," she breathed after she swallowed. "No wonder you didn't like the apples on Earth. That's amazing!"

"It is one of Idunna's golden apples," Loki told her, sliding the rest of the slice between her lips, and her dark eyes widened further in surprise. The magical apples, eaten daily, were the source of the Æsir's immortality. They were very, very carefully guarded–glancing down the table, Taryn saw that neither Darcy nor Selvig had been honored with so much as a single bite. But Loki had placed multiple slices upon her own trencher. She looked back up and met his smile. "Odin made you one of us," he explained, lifting another golden slice for her. "The treasures of Asgard are yours for the taking."

Taryn kissed his fingertips before taking another bite. "I already have Asgard's greatest treasure," she murmured, holding his gaze with all her love in her eyes.

Across from Loki and Taryn, Thor and Jane were engaged in similar play. Thor fed his bride tidbits from the trencher they shared and gave her sips of honeyed mead from the two-handled vessel, which Thor told Jane was called a loving-cup. She, in turn, fed him and teased him unmercifully about the amount he ate and drank at the feast.

Taryn also held up bites for Loki, then yelped when he nipped at her fingers. "Hey, watch it!"

He grinned wickedly at her. "You're the only thing I'm hungry for," he growled, tightening his arm around her waist.

Taryn blushed crimson and kicked him beneath the table. He retaliated by catching her knee with a lightning-fast grab, pulling her leg across his thigh, and trapping it there. The intimate position was hidden by the golden tablecloth, but she still blushed as she tried to pull her leg back. It was useless. Instead, she settled for glaring at him. "Your mother is sitting right next to me!" she hissed. "Behave!"

Loki bent and nuzzled her ear. "My mother thoroughly approves," he told her smugly. "Just look at her."

Against her better judgment, Taryn did so. Frigga met her gaze with a knowing smile that only made Taryn blush hotter. Darcy laughed at her and called out, "Turnin' pretty red there, Taryn. Got a little mischief goin' on under the table or something, huh?"

Then Darcy jumped with a yelp and Taryn smiled sweetly. "Whoops, did I accidentally kick you?"

The brunette glared. "Not so accidentally, I bet," she growled, but when Sif and the Warriors laughed, she joined in.

Despite the camaraderie and laughter, still a rarity for him in Asgard, Loki chafed for this feast to end. The warm weight of Taryn's leg over his and the teasing brushes of her lips and tongue on his fingers as he fed her delicacies had him almost shaking with the force of his desire for her, and he couldn't do a damned thing about it. No one, not even the Second Prince of Asgard, could leave until Thor and Jane did so. The newly married couple must be both the first to enter and the first to leave this place. To leave before them would not only be unconscionably rude–wars were fought for less–but it would also invite the spirits of bad luck, ill-omen, and disaster upon his brother and his new wife. And that was something Loki would never do.

But damn it all, Thor was taking  _forever_  to finish his feasting and take Jane away! The couple drank to the bottom of the loving-cup and it was refilled, then refilled again. The dishes went from meats and vegetables to fruits and sweets as the sun began to sink in the west, but still Thor showed any signs of slowing as he decimated the feast. Darcy and Selvig teased Jane about Thor's massive appetite, wondering aloud if it extended to other things than food. A bard stood up and recited a saga for the assembled company as yet more food was brought in. By the end of the long tale, Taryn had given up resisting leaning on Loki. The soft scent of her hair flavored his every breath and he ached with wanting her. Taryn had been entranced by the saga and launched into a spirited discussion with Volstagg about the differences between the one she'd learned and the one the bard had just recited. Even when Selvig, the wine and mead getting the better of him, stole a cluster of grapes from Taryn's plate and Loki offered to set his head on fire for the theft, no one seemed to feel the slightest urge to leave the feasting table.

Damn it all, was Thor planning to stay here indefinitely?

Finally Loki gathered his magic and prodded his brother's mind.  _Aren't you ready to take your bride away yet?_

Thor looked up and gave Loki an amused look.  _Why the rush, brother?_  he teased back in the same way.

Loki glared.  _You know very well why,_  he growled mentally.  _I haven't seen my lady for three months, and we cannot leave until you do. The night is full-dark and past the midnight hour. Shouldn't you be taking your wife to bed?_

Thor laughed aloud and Loki knew he hadn't kept the desperation from his mental plea. Jane looked at her new husband with an amused frown, wondering what he was laughing at, but Taryn, having experienced Loki's mental communication before, glanced up and raised an eyebrow at him, clearly suspicious.

Suddenly Odin stood. "It is far past time for sitting. I command music and dancing!" he proclaimed, and Loki's groan was lost amid the sudden scraping of wooden benches and tables as the central clearing was expanded to make room.

Jane's amusement at her husband turned to panic. "Dancing? You never said there was going to be dancing!" she cried to Thor, clutching his arm in both hands.

He smiled indulgently down at her. "Of course there's dancing, my love!" he boomed, grinning. "How could it be a proper celebration without–"

" _I can't dance!"_  Jane wailed, nothing but terror on her face. "I'm going to look like an idiot!"

Loki reached over the table and caught her hand. "This, too, is easily remedied, sister," he said soothingly. She turned desperate eyes on him and he smiled. "Relax and take a deep breath," he told her, and when she did, he murmured a soft word and tapped her forehead. A gentle splash of green sank beneath her skin.

Jane's breath rushed out and her eyes widened. "Whoa," she breathed in awe. "I can dance."

Thor stood and beamed at Loki. "Thank you, brother," he said as he drew Jane into his arms. Then he winked. "In return, I will attend to that matter you requested as soon as possible."

Loki sighed with relief and put his arm back around Taryn. "That would be most appreciated, brother," he said, and he wasn't even offended when Thor laughed at his clear anxiousness.

The dancing went on for a long time, however. Loki and Taryn didn't dance much, though–unlike Jane, she knew the dances, but claimed her feet ached from spending so long in heels. And honestly, he was more than content just to hold her, talk, and watch the rest of the guests whirling about the floor. The wine and mead flowed freely and the dancers became rowdier, until finally Thor charged over and grabbed Loki by the arm while Jane collapsed breathlessly beside Taryn.

"Up, brother, up!" Thor demanded, not giving Loki a chance to refuse as he pulled his brother bodily off the bench. "You will join in the sword-dance with us!"

Loki gave Taryn a helpless look as Thor dragged him off the bench. But there was no help for him there–she only nodded eagerly. "Yes, I want to see that, too!"

"Traitor," he accused, and Thor wrapped an arm around his neck in a gesture that was half hug, half headlock.

"Yes, show your lady how well you move," Thor challenged, and before Loki could protest again, he was dragged off to the center of the hall where Asgard's warriors were dancing in a complex pattern of stomping feet and whirling swords.

Sif scooted down the bench, past the places vacated by Volstagg and Hogun until she sat beside Darcy, across from Taryn. "You should know that Loki never acts like this," she told the redhead without preamble.

"Like what?" she asked, clearly taken aback.

"He is usually the most secretive of lovers," Sif explained, studying her face closely as she spoke. "Public displays of affection have always sent him running. Yet ever since you arrived on the Bifrost Bridge, he has not given the slightest notice to anything but you. Everyone can see how he feels for you."

Taryn blushed and smiled. Her dark eyes sparkled with affection as she watched Loki dance beside his brother, his grace unmatched by any other warrior out there. "I'm very lucky," she said simply.

Darcy also stared out at the sword-dance, her jaw dropped. "Damn, I'll say so," she breathed. "Look at that man go! Those hips should be illegal and I am seriously and deeply jealous because I could lick him like a tootsie-roll pop." Suddenly she spun around and fixed Taryn with a piercing look. "Dude, you gotta spill the deets. Loki's the God of Mischief–he's gotta be kinky as hell in bed, right?"

Sif crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "How is that  _your_  business?"

"It's not," Darcy freely admitted, grinning. "But I wanna know. So? What's he into? Bondage, cosplay, edible undies, what?"

Taryn laughed out loud at her audacity. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Darcy groaned and pouted. "No fair! C'mon, you  _have_  to share. It's proper wedding etiquette! When guys are gone, the girls dish!" Taryn, grinning wickedly, just took a sip of wine and stayed mum. Darcy growled and turned to Jane next, but the bride raised a hand to cut off whatever embarrassing questions her assistant was about to ask and shook her head emphatically. Taryn thought Darcy might explode. "Sheesh, Jane, not you too! This is so not right."

Sif laughed at her ire. "Sounds like you need to get a man of your own, Darcy."

Darcy rolled her eyes and picked up her goblet. "Yeah, well, it looks like most of the guys around here are pretty solidly taken," she complained. "If I can't have a hot god of my own, at least I could live vicariously through y'all, but oh  _no,_  no one's dishing. Bitches."

Taryn put down her goblet and took pity on Darcy. "If you must know, we haven't been together long enough for me to get to know his kinks yet," she admitted, feeling the warmth of her cheeks and knowing she was blushing.

Sif, Jane, and Darcy all gaped at her. She stared back, feeling the blush deepen. "What?" she demanded.

Sif shook her head slowly. "It's just hard to believe, that's all," the warrior said at last. "He's loved you for years. I thought you'd been lovers for a long time."

"Well, I didn't know how he felt until after he… I mean, until just before Thor came for him," Taryn said. Her fingers were tight on her goblet. "We were together for less than a week before he returned to Asgard with Thor."

Now Sif positively gaped at her. "How the hell could you not  _know?_  Loki was head over heels! We all saw it!"

"And not everyone's known him for a thousand years," Jane spoke up, earning her a grateful glance from Taryn. She sounded a little drunk, but her flushed face glowed with happiness. "How's she supposed to know how he usually acts?"

"Dude, that sucks like damn," Darcy said, shaking her head and staring at Taryn. "Less than a week of hawt hawt god sex, then three months apart? Seriously, why the hell are you two still even here? If it was me, I'd have dragged Loki's fine ass outta here like six hours ago and we'd be boinking like cracked-out bunnies right now!"

Taryn grinned and rested her chin on her hand as Sif choked. "He really does have a fine ass, doesn't he?" she agreed, staring out over to where the men were still engaged in that fast, sexy, and very dangerous-looking sword-dance.

Darcy craned her neck and then nodded emphatically. "Oh, hell yes." She was practically drooling.

"You two are making me sick," Sif pronounced, which only made them laugh at her.

"You're just jealous," Darcy sing-songed.

"Ha! Been there, done that," Sif shot back with a glare, then looked wide-eyed at Taryn as if she'd just realized what she'd admitted.

But Taryn wasn't a bit surprised. "I'm a professor of Norse mythology, Sif," she said with a laugh. "I'm more than familiar with the Lokasenna."

"It was just once," Sif muttered as she went crimson and Jane laughed. Darcy once again felt like she was the only one present who didn't get it and huffed, but Taryn winked at her.

"It's an ancient prose edda," she explained, "which details a flyting. That's a ritual exchange of insults–sort of like a roast." Darcy nodded to show she understood. "And just like in a roast, nothing is off-limits. Sif got called out for cheating on–" Taryn broke off abruptly, not finishing her sentence.

But the warrior didn't bother to wait for a finish. "I wish I'd killed that mortal for writing that," she said hotly. "Yes, all right, I slept with Loki–once!–but I  _never_  slept with Thor. And I was not married to him!"

"Glad to hear it," Jane commented dryly, and they all laughed again.

Fandral suddenly appeared at Darcy's elbow, putting an end to the conversation. "Darcy, may I have this dance?" he asked, bowing and holding a hand out to her.

Taryn grinned at the brief, calculating look that came over the curvy brunette's face before she smiled and accepted. Fandral was notorious for his womanizing ways, but something told her he'd have his hands full with Darcy. Thor and Loki arrived seconds later, claiming Jane and Taryn, and Sif grabbed Hogun for her own partner.

Taryn smiled up at Loki as he held her a little closer than propriety called for and swept through the crowd with her in a dance very similar to a waltz. "And here I thought you didn't want to dance," Taryn teased.

"There was far too much giggling going on over there," Loki said, narrowing his eyes down at her. "And you, my lady, know entirely too much about the Æsir. Thor and I thought it prudent to break it up before both of us got into trouble."

She laughed. "Good thing, too. We'd just started talking about the Lokasenna."

He groaned and closed his eyes briefly. "You would," he accused.

"Really, if you don't want people to know, you shouldn't let things get written down," she said, no pity at all in her tone, and he groaned again. "But you may be interested to know that I did find out about one important historical inaccuracy regarding Sif and the sons of Odin," she added in her best scholarly tone.

He opened his eyes, looking wary. "Um. I think I'm about to get into trouble again." She laughed, and Loki sighed, smiling. Even talking about that night with Sif and the extremely awkward morning after couldn't keep him from smiling now that Taryn was back in his arms. "Would it do me any good at all to tell you that we were both very drunk and she started it?" he asked a bit hopelessly.

"None," she said, but the light dancing in her eyes took the sting out of her stern tone. "But it would do you some good to tell me that you're all mine now."

Loki bent and nuzzled her ear before murmuring against the sensitive skin, "I am most assuredly all yours now, my lady." He nipped at her earlobe, savoring the shiver of her in his arms, before very reluctantly straightening again and glancing around the hall. Then he suddenly went stiff and whispered, "Damn, I should be over there," and vanished from her embrace.

The music stopped before she could react, and she turned to see Odin and Frigga standing beside the entryway with their hands linked to bar the exit. Thor and Jane stood before them, also hand in hand. "Thor, son of Odin! Jane, wife of Thor! We bless thee now. May thy union be fruitful, steadfast and true!" Frigga cried, speaking first as was her right as Goddess of Marriage and raising her free hand in an open-palmed gesture toward the new couple.

Odin also raised his open hand. "Strength, valor, and honor I bestow upon thee!" he called out. "May thy marriage grow strong and unbending as the great tree of Yggdrasil itself!"

Then Taryn saw Loki behind Thor and Jane, and he likewise raised both his hands, one palm over each of their heads. "Laughter and happiness I wish upon thee and thy lady," he said, adding his own blessing to those given by his parents. "May thy love ever increase!"

Frigga smiled fondly at her youngest son and then raised her own voice again. "Rain down your blessings upon this new family, all present, that they may know the joy their union has brought to all of Asgard!"

And the entire crowd began to shout, all the combined blessings and well-wishes blending into a roar of sound as more flowers–another gift from Loki, Taryn thought–floated down over them, each shedding light like glowing rain. Taryn thought fast before adding her own voice to the cacophony. "May neither of you ever regret this day," she said, remembering the quick glimpses she'd had of Puente Antigua when Thor had brought her to the Bifrost site to travel with the wedding party to Asgard. So much of Jane's life was still on Earth, and Asgard was so very different from anything she'd ever known. "May you both always be glad of your marriage."

When the shouting died way, Odin and Frigga released their hands, clearing the exit for the bride and groom. "Now go make me a grandchild!" Odin boomed, and Thor swept Jane up in his arms.

"With pleasure!" he laughed, and with the ribald cheers of the crowd urging him on, Thor and Jane departed the feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering about the Lokasenna, it's an ancient prose edda in which Loki basically roasts the entire Norse pantheon. More than that, he verbally kicks their asses-a lot. They all threaten him to make him shut up, which only makes him come up with worse and worse mockery, until Thor arrives. At that point, Loki basically says, "These other idiots have no balls, but I think you really will hit me, so I'm leaving now." Snort.
> 
> The bit Taryn refers to is when Loki takes on Sif, who in Norse mythology actually is the wife of Thor. She brings Loki a goblet of wine (yep, drinking again!) and tells him (paraphrasing), "You can mock all these others, but even you have to admit that I alone of the Æsir am blameless." To which he replies:
> 
> That indeed you would be, if you were so,
> 
> if you were shy and fierce towards men;
> 
> But I alone know, as I think I do know,
> 
> your one lover beside Thor,
> 
> and that was the wicked Loki.
> 
> … yep. Sif really has "been there, done that." And I, my friends, am just as jealous as Darcy!


	12. Certainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki STILL doesn't get any… is it wrong that I'm having so damn much fun cockblocking my favorite God of Mischief? Bwahahaha!

Taryn smiled as an arm slid around her waist from behind. "I thought they'd never go," Loki whispered in her ear. "Now  _we_  can go, too."

She turned, grinning wickedly up at him. "Don't you think we should wait a few minutes for propriety's sake first?"

"And what could possibly have given you the idea I've ever been interested in propriety?"

She laughed, and then Sif, Volstagg, Darcy, Hogun, and Fandral arrived. "It's been at least half a minute, Loki. You're  _still_  here?" Fandral asked, raising an eyebrow at Loki.

"I'm trying not to be," Loki said pointedly as he tightened his arm around Taryn.

Darcy giggled. "Looks like your helmet's not the only thing massively horny around here," she said, then almost choked when Frigga stepped past her. "Omigod, did I say that out loud?"

Frigga pretended she hadn't heard that comment as she twined her arm through Taryn's. "The first journey by Bifrost is tiring," she said, smiling warmly at the redhead. "And today's long ceremonies and feasting were surely more so for you. Come, I will show you to your rooms."

"Um–yes, thanks," Taryn said, taken aback. She'd clearly thought she'd be staying with Loki.

The blond goddess glanced up at her son. "Come, Loki, you may accompany us."

Darcy grinned at Loki as his mother took Taryn from him and led her from the crowded feasting hall. "Dude, looks like you're busted again," she snickered. "Somehow I don't think your mom's going to tuck you two in together!"

Loki drew himself up with all the dignity he could muster, but he was afraid it wasn't much. He could definitely feel his cheeks heating. "Alas, I think you're right," he lamented, giving up on dignity. His traitorous friends laughed at him as he trailed behind Taryn and Frigga and left the feasting hall.

Thor and Jane were nowhere to be seen, which didn't surprise Loki in the least. He glanced up quickly and just thought he saw a red streak near the balcony of his brother's room and grinned. Yes, if he'd been in Thor's shoes, he'd have used the fastest way to get his bride alone possible. Flying with Mjolnir was certainly that.

Then he sighed silently and quickened his step to catch up to Frigga and Taryn at the wide doors to the palace. It didn't look like Loki was going to get to enjoy the same privilege with his own lover. Frigga smiled at him as he came alongside Taryn. "You used much magic today, my son. I was surprised to see it, but pleased."

"Pleased?" The word was out before he knew he planned to speak.

She nodded. "Yes, pleased," Frigga said, her tone warm. "You have so long hidden that part of yourself or used it but little, and then rarely outside of battle. You should not be ashamed of your strengths, Loki. I am glad you shared your magic with us in joy today."

Taryn met Loki's eyes with such pride and adoration that he was momentarily speechless. Gods, he'd forgotten how she looked at him sometimes. "He saved the day for Jane, that's for sure," she said, and told Frigga how he'd removed the wine stain from Jane's dress and then added the red accents to the gown which honored Thor.

"Are you not tired after so many spells?" Frigga asked, raising an eyebrow as if counting all the spells he'd woven today.

And there had been many, he didn't deny that. Mentally, he reviewed them all. From the muffling of the crowd's cheers when the Midgardians had arrived, through two journeys into the mirror realm and adjusting Jane's dress and makeup, he'd used quite a bit of magic. It had continued through the wedding, leaving rose petals in Jane's wake, lightening Borr's sword in her grasp, conjuring the rings, and creating that joyous fireworks-to-flowers-to-mist display over the heads of the crowd. There had been still more magic during the feasting–speaking mentally to Thor, teleporting himself to the hall's entrance, infusing his blessing on his brother and his new wife with true power, and finally creating another rain of flowers and light over Thor and Jane when they'd departed the feasting.

Truly, Frigga was right. He should be exhausted from all that.

Still, Loki merely shrugged. "Perhaps a little," he lied, because while once he would've been fatigued, now weaving spells was less tiring to him than breathing. Despite Frigga's encouragement, he wasn't entirely ready to share all his new strengths with the Æsir yet. "But it's nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."

Frigga didn't look entirely convinced, but she didn't pursue the matter. Instead she turned her attention to Taryn. "And you, Taryn. I know you have studied the ancient customs. Did the ceremony meet your expectations?"

Taryn smiled, her face lighting up. She always so loved discussing history. "Honestly, I wasn't sure what to expect. So little has been preserved," she said, sounding sad at the loss of knowledge. Then her face brightened. "It was beautiful, though, all of it. I especially loved the symbolism of the swords."

Frigga kept up a gentle stream of talk as they walked through the palace toward the wing of suites where the most honored guests of the Æsir had always lodged, explaining the history behind the wedding traditions. Loki didn't listen to much of it and replied only when necessary. He was busy thinking of the magical protections in this wing and how he'd get around them once Frigga was gone.

Finally, his mother stopped before an ornate door. "Here is where we shall leave you, Taryn," she said warmly, opening the door and revealing an opulent suite of rooms. "All the kingdom will sleep long tomorrow–many will not find their beds until after the dawn–so you may rest as late as you like. Call for anything you wish by ringing the bell and a servant will look after you. We shall see you again tomorrow, when the feasting and celebrations will continue."

Taryn glanced at Loki and he couldn't resist winking at her before she met Frigga's eyes again. "Thank you," she said, blushing a little at the wicked look he'd sent her. "You've been very generous. I'm sure I'll have everything I need."

Frigga likewise looked up at Loki, and behind the chiding censure at his continued shameless behavior, he thought he saw amusement in her eyes. "My son will ensure that, I have no doubt," she said dryly. "These will be your rooms for as long as you wish to stay in Asgard. Tomorrow, you may change anything to your desires, but tonight, rest. You will not be disturbed." And she definitely shot Loki a glance at that, one he pretended he didn't see. "Goodnight, Taryn. Come, Loki, escort me to my rooms."

Taryn bit her lip, her cheeks reddening further at Frigga's less than subtle hint. "Goodnight," she murmured before disappearing into the room and closing the door behind her.

Loki sighed and offered his arm to his mother–apparently he was not even to be granted a goodnight kiss. Frigga definitely looked amused as she took it and led him away. "It may interest you to know that I've enchanted all the mirrors in her suite," she said conversationally. "None of them will connect to the mirror realm."

Loki raised an eyebrow at her in his most innocent expression. "Now why ever would you have done that?"

"She is our guest, Loki. We will treat her with the respect and honor due to her," she told him sternly, and he sighed again. While it was common knowledge that trysts with guests happened, they were meant to be quiet things, kept as discreet and inconspicuous as possible. Loki's behavior tonight had been anything but that. But he hadn't been able to help himself–it had been too long since he'd touched her, held her, whispered in her ear, and he'd been drunk on her presence. "No shadow-walking or sending any of your clones to her, either," Frigga added.

"Of course not, Mother," he said, and he meant it. He no longer needed the shadows, and why send a clone when he could go himself?

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Frigga spoke again. "You  _could_  simply marry her, you know. Then you wouldn't have to sneak around like I am certain you will the instant my back is turned."

Loki laughed. Of course he hadn't fooled Frigga with his agreement to her restrictions. "It is far too soon to think of marrying off your other son, Mother," he demurred.

"I am the Goddess of Marriage. Do not presume to tell me what is too soon and what is not," she said sharply, but when he looked down at her, she was smiling. "Your lady wears your token with such pride, my son. Do you think she would not wear your ring so willingly?"

 _What is this, the third time today, or is it the fourth?_  Loki thought, remembering how Thor and Fandral both had urged him to wed Taryn. Did they all see something he didn't, or was it just the wedding fever which had gripped the realm that drove them? Frigga didn't press, simply walked beside him and let him think, but he knew better than to hope she was done with the subject.

A moment later, he was proven right when she spoke again. "Do you love her, Loki?"

Did he love her?  _Love_  seemed such a small word to encompass all Loki felt for Taryn, the volatile, roiling tempest of desire, terror, joy, desperation,  _obsession_  that consumed him at the merest thought of her. It owed nothing at all to rationality. How could so much feeling be summed up in four little letters?

There was no way to explain the emotions that flooded him, but when he glanced down at his mother, he knew there was also no reason to try. She understood. "Yes," Loki replied simply. "Yes, Mother, I love her terribly. I always have."

"And she loves you," Frigga said, and this wasn't a question. The words were spoken as simple fact, stated with absolute assurance. Just hearing it thrilled him, but Loki also heard what wasn't spoken next– _why hesitate, then? Why_ not _wed her?_

Loki sighed and tried to explain. "I have known her five years, Mother, but for all of that time, she saw me only as her friend. After I… when I sought sanctuary with her on Midgard, our relationship finally changed, but only for a few days. And now we have had a long separation. It is too soon to ask such a commitment of her," he repeated.

"What do you fear so, Loki?" Frigga asked, and the gentle words struck him with such force that his steps momentarily faltered. She stopped walking and stepped in front of him, reaching up and cupping his cheek in her hand. Loki closed his eyes and shook his head as if he could shake her perception away so easily, but she didn't release him. Those eyes had ever seen right through him. "You have loved her since first you met her–you admit this yourself. So tell me, my son, why did it take five years for you to make the change you wanted so badly? What now keeps you from reaching for what you truly want?"

She wasn't going to release him until he gave her an answer. Loki took a deep breath, let it out wearily. "I am not Thor, Mother."

"And I would not want you to be." She caressed his cheek with her thumb, urging him to look at her again. Despite himself, he did. "Do you think yourself less worthy of happiness than Thor?"

And that was the answer, wrapped in so few words. Loki just stared down at her, unable to articulate a reply, but Frigga clearly saw it in his face and she shook her head with a sigh. "I think your lady knows well who you are and who you are not," she murmured. "I spent much time watching her tonight. She seemed more sure of you than even Jane seemed of Thor."

"I will destroy her."

The harsh words were out before Loki could choke them back. Frigga didn't flinch, however, and he found himself going on as if willing her to show the horror he felt. "I will destroy  _everything_ , the entire universe and everything in it! Can you imagine how she will look at me when I begin the end? How she will hate me when her world and all she knows burns to nothing and it is because of  _me?"_  He finally clenched his jaw, cutting off the words he'd never allowed himself to fully think, much less speak aloud.

But Frigga still didn't look at him with the horror he had expected. "And then you will bring about the rebirth of all of it," she told him gently. "Ragnarok is necessary. Death is part of life, Loki. So is love. You don't have to be only one or the other. You can have both."

Finally, finally, she released him and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow again, drawing him down the hall as though they weren't discussing the end of everything. "I was watching from Hliðskjálf when you showed her your true skin on Midgard," Frigga said, and Loki's breath froze in his lungs at this confirmation of her power–no one,  _no one_  should have been able to see through all the layers of magic he'd worn then, not even from the All-Father's high seat. "She accepted you then when you thought she would not. And today, although we spoke of Ragnarok before the wedding, she did not back away from you or fear you. Do–"

"You spoke to her of  _that?_ " Loki's voice was sharp, shocked, angry.

"Yes." Frigga's was peaceful, serene. "My son, she knows you, and she  _loves_  you."

Suddenly a memory burst through Loki's mind–Taryn comforting him on her couch when he'd revealed his shameful Jötunn heritage to her. She'd stayed right beside him, had even hugged him. Not for a single instant had she shown the disgust and hatred he'd fully expected.

A second memory now–Taryn facing Thor down in her kitchen as he tried desperately to warn her of Loki's duplicity. He heard anew every word of her fierce defense of him, her refusal to believe that Loki would ever harm her. Her faith in him hadn't weakened for an instant no matter what Thor had said. He could still hear her reply to his brother's accusations, so calm and certain.  _"Yes, I know what he is."_

The silence was longer this time. Loki didn't bother to break it now. He kept hearing those words, the answer she'd given Thor that hadn't held any fear at all.  _Yes, I know what he is._  And then she'd made love to him, held him close, accepted him fully despite all the dire warnings.

 _She knows you, and she_ loves _you._

Frigga finally stopped walking and Loki saw that they'd arrived at the door to his parents' chambers. Seemingly oblivious to his brooding silence, she went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Think about it, Loki," she murmured as she opened the door. "I will support you in whatever you decide–please, my son, know that. In the end, it must be your choice. All I wish is that you not let fear make it for you. Goodnight."

Remembering himself, Loki bowed as she left him. "Goodnight, Mother," he said, his voice somewhat choked. Odin greeted her as Loki closed the door gently behind her, and he stood for a moment, looking back the way he'd come.

Toward Taryn.

Suddenly decisive, Loki closed his eyes and summoned the power of chaos that he now controlled. It was less than a heartbeat before he pierced the protective spells and locked in on Taryn's rooms–the trick much easier now that she wore his necklace–and, without giving a moment's thought to the guards who would see him vanish, Loki stepped through the cracks between dimensions and crossed the distance between in a single stride.

He still wasn't sure what he would say to her. But he was certain that it had been entirely too long since he'd held her, and he was certain that she would welcome him into her arms and into her bed. Right now, he would take what certainty he could get.


	13. Oh God Yes

Taryn sighed when the door clicked closed behind her. Much as she found she liked Frigga–something about the elder Æsir's warm, unshakable demeanor and ready smile made her impossible not to like–this wasn't exactly what she'd pictured when she'd looked forward getting out of the feasting hall tonight. She crossed the lavish sitting room and entered the equally plush bedchamber with no enthusiasm at all. The bed was inviting, she was tired, and she had no desire whatsoever to lie in that bed alone.

But her lips curved in a smile a moment later. If she knew anything about Loki, and she fancied she knew just a bit, it was a sure bet that she wouldn't be alone here for very long.

She toed off her shoes, groaning with relief when her tired feet sank into the deep, soft carpet. Then she crossed to the low bench before the vanity mirror and began removing her jewelry. A crystal tray lay on the vanity and she carefully placed the jewels Loki had hidden for her there. The emeralds glinted in the soft light, reminding her of her lover's eyes, bringing another smile to her lips. Bowing her head to reach more easily, she began pulling the pins from her hair, releasing it from its style.

She'd just pulled the last of them free when gentle fingers brushed her unbound tresses away from the nape of her neck. Cool lips pressed a kiss there, sending a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes, smiling. "I knew you wouldn't stay away," she murmured as he kissed a path down the back of her neck, sending those delicious shivers chasing over her skin.

"No force in all the realms could have kept me from you tonight," Loki whispered against her skin. His hands closed over her shoulders, drawing her back against his body. She went willingly, surrendering her weight to him as his mouth meandered over her bared shoulder.

Too soon, he pulled away. Taryn opened her eyes and saw him lift her brush from the vanity. She met his green gaze in the mirror as he drew her hair to fall down her back and gently ran the brush through the crimson strands. The intensity in his eyes as he brushed it smooth quickened her breath. Taryn licked her lips and he followed the movement hungrily. "You are so beautiful," Loki breathed, setting the brush aside and threading his hands through her hair instead. He raised a handful to his face and inhaled as though savoring something exquisite. "So beautiful. My lady, you steal my breath."

Taryn smiled and finally turned to face him. His gaze searched her face as though looking for something, but she didn't ask what. There was no need. Whatever he needed from her, she would give it willingly and more. She stood and cupped his face in her hands, her fingertips just sliding beneath the metal of the horned helmet he still wore. "I love you, Loki," she said, and then drew him down to meet her kiss.

One hand in her hair, the other at her waist, Loki's kiss wasn't the hungry, devouring thing she'd expected. He teased her lips with gentle caresses of his own, suckled her lower lip for but a moment, nibbled the corner of her mouth. She sighed into his mouth and let him set the pace. His seduction was a heady thing indeed and she hadn't had the pleasure of it in far, far too long.

He didn't hurry to deepen the kiss. Taryn tugged at his helmet's horns, wanting to touch him, and he obediently released her long enough to remove it and place it beside the crystal tray on her vanity. She let one of her own hands thread through his hair, tangling in the dark strands and caressing his nape. "Your hair is longer," she murmured as she used her hold to tug him back to her. "I like it."

He gave her a wicked smile before he claimed her lips again. His kisses were getting a little hotter, teasing a bit less, but she still hadn't tasted him and it was getting more difficult to let him set the pace. Taryn trailed her free hand down over his chest but was immediately frustrated by his ornate breastplate. She slipped her hand beneath his cape instead but was foiled again by the steel protecting his back. Over his hip it was the same story–cold metal instead of skin, and she finally pulled away with a frustrated groan and thumped his chest with her fist. "You are impenetrable," she complained, glaring at his armor.

Loki's grin widened. "That is rather the point of armor," he pointed out, teasing again.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you want me to touch you or not?"

His breath caught and his eyes darkened to green fire. "Oh, my lady, there is nothing I want more," he whispered, and he put a little space between them so he could guide her hands to the hidden buckles at his ribcage. "Just one side," he told her, his voice low, rough. Taryn undid them with unsteady fingers because he'd returned to kissing her throat, lips and tongue working on all her most sensitive places. It felt like an eternity before she had the buckles undone. "Now here," he breathed into her ear, guiding her hands to his shoulders where she felt another set of buckles.

"Too many damn buckles," Taryn complained breathlessly, working at them while he suckled her earlobe.

"I fully agree," Loki groaned, but he didn't use his magic to help her.

Truthfully, she didn't want him to. It was erotic, slowly unwrapping him, undoing his protection piece by piece, baring him to her touch. The quickness of his breath on her skin told her he found it so as well. She finally got the breast and back plates undone and almost dropped them–they were much heavier than she'd expected–but Loki waved a hand and they floated away to drop onto the settee.

Beneath them he wore a secondary layer of heavy leather, but she couldn't get past that yet–it was held in place by shoulder and arm plates. His waist and legs were likewise shielded by more leather and greaves of bronze and steel. She growled with disappointment at still being denied his skin but immediately went to work on his pauldrons.

As she did, his hands finally moved, sliding down her back with exquisite slowness. She felt the kiss of air on her skin as he took the zipper down in one long caress. It was followed by the pressure of his fingertips–so soft, almost impossible to detect, cool fingers just touching her bare spine, not moving.

"Loki," Taryn groaned, half complaint, half moan.

He shuddered against her. "I've been wondering what surprises you've hidden under here for me," he murmured against her collarbone. "You were wicked to put that thought in my mind when you knew it'd be hours before I could discover them."

Taryn laughed softly, pure feminine satisfaction. "I'm not sorry."

The pauldrons fell away from his shoulders, taking his cape with them, and were soon followed by his vambraces. The pile of metal on the settee grew achingly slowly, mostly because Taryn's fingers were now shaking with desire. When she finally managed to unbutton the leather jerkin and free him from it, she found yet another shirt of padding beneath it. "Good Lord, you have more layers than an onion!" she complained, and he laughed.

"You do realize you're killing me, don't you?" he said, half laugh, half moan. "Can't you strip me faster, woman?"

Taryn pulled back and glared at him. "Next time I'm going to wear sixteen layers all connected like a puzzle and laugh at you when you try to get through them," she threatened.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't you dare."

Suddenly wanting more than teasing from that sexy mouth, Taryn dove both hands into his hair and pulled him down to her. This time she didn't let him get away with just nibbling her lips. She took his mouth and pressed against him until he opened his lips and finally, finally gave her his tongue.

Loki's breath rushed out at her passion and his hands splayed over the bare skin of her back as Taryn kissed the brain right out of his head. He quickly took over the kiss, plundering her mouth, seeking and reveling in the little gasps and moans of passion he brought from her. This… this was what he'd wanted, what he'd needed since he'd first seen her on the Bifrost bridge that morning, an eternity ago. She held nothing back and didn't let him do so, either. Pulling her tighter to him, Loki lost patience with their little game with his armor and banished the rest of it to join the pile on the settee, leaving only the padded linen underlayer of pants and shirt.

Taryn moaned in approval when she felt the hard edges of his armor vanish. "Finally," she whispered, but he didn't let her mouth go for longer than that. Her hands slid beneath his shirt and found his skin at last, kicking the breath from his lungs and tearing a groan from his throat. Gods, he'd missed her touch! He kissed her again, hotter, deeper, as one of her hands caressed his back and the other made a heated trail up his chest.

Just before he could pick her up and throw her on the bed, Taryn pulled away. "Much, much better," she purred, smiling at him, and Loki knew his hunger was naked on his face. But she pressed a finger to his lips when he tried to kiss her again. "Ah-ah, you've forgotten your surprise," she reminded him.

Was it possible for him to want her more? He swallowed hard and nodded, letting her slip out of his embrace. "Should I say please?" he asked when she took a step away and put her hands behind her back, making no move to drop the unfastened dress which still clung to her.

"You will before I'm done with you," Taryn promised, eyes dark with passion, and Loki had to clench his fists to keep from reaching for her. Oh yes, he would beg for her–anything she wanted. She put out a hand and planted it in the center of his chest, pushing him gently backward. He went, not stopping until he felt the bed against his legs, then fell back when she pushed again.

Taryn crawled after him and straddled his waist, one hand still behind her back. "Close your eyes," she said in a teasing, sing-song voice.

Loki obeyed, breathing fast at the feel of her thighs against his hips. She caught his wrists in her hands and pushed his arms up, guiding his hands to the ornately carved headboard. He gripped the wood at her urging, wondering just what she had in mind but already loving it.

Then cold metal clasped first one wrist, then the other, and his eyes flew open.

Taryn sat atop his thighs, smiling wickedly and dangling a little silver key on a rubber band from one fingertip. "Surprise," she said, and Loki looked up to find himself handcuffed in place. She slipped the little elastic band over her wrist. "You're at my mercy, just like I said you would be. Remember that?"

His cock throbbed at the memory of her threats the first time he'd made love to her. She'd threatened to tie him down and torment him for teasing her. "Kinky," he said, testing the cuffs with a little tug. He could easily escape them and was certain she knew it, but he had absolutely no intention of doing so–this was too damn hot. "I am indeed at your mercy. Whatever will you do with me?"

"Everything," she murmured, and Loki could have come right then.

Taryn climbed off him and began to tug off the remainder of his clothing. His boots, socks, and pants dropped to the carpet. Only when Loki wore just the padded undershirt–with his hands restrained, there was no way to remove it–did she slowly drop the dress from her shoulders, revealing an emerald green merry widow and tiny panties beneath it. "Oh, my lady," Loki breathed, devouring her with his gaze. Never had he seen a more beautiful sight.

She smiled and turned her back on him–it gave him an unrivaled view of her gorgeous ass, but she was walking the wrong way! She stopped beside his armor and hunted through it for a moment before returning with his little ceremonial dagger in hand. Loki raised an eyebrow. "You really are getting kinky."

She laughed and climbed back onto the bed, straddling his waist once more. The press of her bare skin against his brought a nearly desperate groan from his lips. "Tell me," she said conversationally, reaching out and trailing a fingertip down the center of his chest, "are you terribly attached to this shirt?"

She was going to cut it off him, he realized. Something about that was so sexy that he had to swallow twice before he could manage to answer her. "Not so very attached," he replied in a voice that was considerably less steady than usual.

"Good," Taryn said, and slowly–oh, so slowly–sliced the linen from neck to waist. Then, leaning down so her breasts almost, but not quite, brushed his chest, she did the same to each sleeve. Finally she placed the knife on the bedside table and unwrapped him, leaving the shredded shirt trapped beneath him. "Very nice," she purred, running a hand down his chest.

Taryn watched Loki's every reaction, loving that he so willing submitted to her. His breath was fast and his cheeks mottled with color, but his eyes were what truly held her. They seemed to blaze with desire, so hungry for her, so desperate. "My lady," he breathed, even his voice rough with need, "will you kiss me?"

She placed both hands flat on his chest and slowly leaned down until their faces were only a breath apart. "Everywhere," she promised, then pressed her mouth to his.

But she didn't let the kiss last long. Loki's kisses had a way of sizzling all the thoughts out of her head and she'd planned this for too long to get sidetracked now. Breaking away and thrilling at his desperate groan, she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses over his jaw and down his strong throat. He swallowed hard and she felt the pounding of his pulse beneath her lips. "I've missed you, Loki," she whispered against his neck and felt him shudder.

"And I, you, my lady," he replied in that gravelly voice. "So desperately."

Did he know that every time he called her his lady, she melted inside? It was so intimate, so possessive, the wealth of emotion in his voice turning those simple words into such a loving endearment. She dragged her hair over his chest and smiled when he shivered at the sensation. "Oh, Taryn," he groaned, arching beneath her. She licked his nipple and thrilled when that groan turned into a strangled cry.

She took her time kissing his chest, relearning every line of him, every muscle, every inch of his skin that she'd missed so much. He shuddered and strained beneath her, trying to follow her teasing mouth, but she didn't let him. When she kissed her way across his abdomen, she glanced up and saw his head thrown back, knuckles white as he gripped the headboard, such ecstasy on his face that she wished she could freeze him just like this in her memory forever. "You are so gorgeous," she whispered into his navel. He breathed her name again like a prayer.

She followed the dusting of dark hair arrowing down to his groin, teasing with light caresses as he strained to get closer to her. "Ooh, look what I found," she murmured, wrapping one hand around his cock. "I think it wants to play with me."

"Have mercy, my lady," Loki groaned, muscles standing out down his arms and chest with the discipline he imposed not to break free of her restraints.

Taryn pressed her cheek against him, watching his reactions, wondering just how far she could make him come undone. "Don't you want to watch?" she asked, then blew a breath over his head.

Loki opened his eyes and looked down at her with such naked hunger, she shivered with delicious anticipation. Oh, when she released him, what would he do to her in return for this? She could hardly wait to find out. "I want to come inside you."

Taryn smiled at him and his gaze sharpened. "You will," she promised, then licked him like an ice-cream cone. His head dropped back but only for an instant, and then he stared down at her again, breathing harshly. Then she winked. "But only when I say."

She engulfed him in her mouth and he shouted something in a language she didn't know, the words sounding torn from his throat. It was so sexy, hearing him like that, and she swirled her tongue over him and hoped he'd do it again. He did, saying God only knew what, moaning the words as she pleasured him with her hands and mouth, loving the taste of him and how he never held back with her, making him writhe and tremble.

"Please," he finally groaned, begging openly. "Please, my lady, my love, mercy!"

Taryn took her time releasing him from her mouth, giving him one last lick and reveling in the shudder that rocked him from head to toe. He was completely undone now and she took a moment just to brand the sight in her memory–Loki stretched out on her bed, breathing fast, shaking with desire for her, fists clenched, lips parted and his eyes blazing green, so hot, so  _hungry_ , so far beyond any semblance of control, as if he would devour her the instant he had the chance. She slowly rose up on her knees, reached behind her back, and unfastened the merry widow.

When it fell away, she dragged it over his chest and watched his eyes nearly roll back in his head with desire. "Let me touch you," Loki commanded, still prince and god even restrained. His gaze already showed her the path his hands would take over her body, but she only smiled and shook her head.

"You don't like your surprise?" she mock-pouted, and trailed a hand down his chest again just to make him groan.

"You are merciless," he breathed, nearly panting with need. "And I love it."

Her pout turned to a smile and she laid down over him, pressing her body to his from shoulder to knee, his cock a long, cool pressure against her belly like a bar of steel covered in silk. He turned his head quick as a snake and captured her mouth in a devouring kiss. She returned it just as passionately, loving the taste of him. Finally she pulled away and tugged the panties off, wiggling against him perhaps a bit more than was strictly necessary with the effort, until she was finally as bare as he was.

"Please, I want to touch you," Loki whispered again, rattling the handcuffs, and Taryn shook her head again. She straddled his waist once more, slid down and took him deep, and when he cried out with pleasure and thrust up to meet her, she leaned forward and braced both hands on his, still locked to the headboard. Loki turned his wrists and laced their fingers together as she rode him slow and deep, his mouth finding her breasts as she threw her head back in ecstasy.

And then somehow, suddenly, his hands were free.

Taryn didn't have a chance to protest. Loki rolled immediately, pinning her beneath his hard body, hips driving into her desperately as his hands found her breasts and his mouth claimed hers like a starving man at a feast. Taryn wrapped arms and legs around him, moaning into his mouth with pleasure, feeling the mother of all orgasms building and building–

–and then it hit, and she arched hard beneath him, crying out with ecstasy, but he didn't slow. Burying his face against her throat, Loki rode her hard, fast, bringing her to another electrifying peak before finally joining her and shouting out his own climax.

"That's not fair. You cheated," Taryn scolded, her voice half-muffled against his shoulder. "You weren't supposed to use your magic. You were supposed to wait until I unlocked the cuffs."

"I used no magic," he protested in mock-innocence, and only then did Taryn notice the elastic band was no longer around her wrist.

"That's still cheating," she said, glaring as best she could. It was a bit difficult to manage much outrage after coming twice, though. Afterglow had a way of stealing her ferocity.

He chuckled softly, bringing a moan from her at the feel of it with him still buried inside her, and pressed the key into her hand. She slipped the elastic back over her wrist–she hadn't even felt him take it from her. Why didn't it surprise her that Loki was a talented thief? "I'm so ashamed of myself," Loki said with so much genuine sorrow and chagrin in his voice, she rolled her eyes. His face split in a wicked grin instead. "Let's do it again and I promise I'll behave much better."

"Liar," Taryn laughed and this time he groaned at the sensation, and then he was thrusting inside her again, fast and short and hard, bringing them both to another orgasm almost at once.

Long minutes later, both still breathing hard in a tangle of arms and legs, Loki finally raised his head and kissed her once more. "You are wicked, my lady," he breathed against her lips.

"Are you complaining?" she teased, winding her arms around his neck and drawing him back down to her.

"Never."

Taryn smiled against his skin. "What did you say?" she asked after a few moments when they'd finally begun to catch their breath. "When you spoke in that other language–what did you say?"

He laughed softly. "I have no idea. I wasn't exactly thinking very clearly at the time. Probably several versions of  _oh God yes."_

She giggled.  _"Oh God yes_  sounds really sexy when you say it like that."

"Then perhaps if you ask very nicely, I'll let you make me say it again sometime," he said, and she giggled again.

Loki propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at her, stroking her hair away from her face. That intensity was back in his gaze, the almost-desperate searching for she knew not what. "I love you, Taryn," he said, serious now, the words low and fierce, as if he sought to convince her of something he thought she'd never believe. "As I have loved nothing else in my long life."

She smiled and let him see the utter faith and adoration in her eyes. How could he doubt that she'd believe him? "I love you too, Loki."

Finally he smiled, and it was so full of wonder that she wished she could save that expression forever and see it again at will. He lay back down beside her, sighing happily. "I will never leave you alone so long again," he promised, drawing her against him and kissing her forehead. "I promise you, my lady."

"Good," she said, and yawned. Then she cuddled against him, resting her head on his chest. "This is what I've missed," she murmured, slipping an arm around his waist and sighing in contentment. "My bed has been far too empty."

"No longer," he whispered, holding her tight. "This time I swear you won't wake up alone."

Taryn couldn't help but ask. "And what about your mother? I got the distinct impression she wouldn't exactly approve."

Loki laughed at the sleepy question. "I'm sure she knows exactly where I am," he said in amusement, "and she did make a point of telling you that no one would disturb you until the afternoon. Plenty of time for round two. And three. And four," he added. She snorted laughter against his chest, and then they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.


	14. Dancing Around the Issue

Taryn awoke to the feel of lips fluttering over her feet. She stretched, following the teasing kisses, and felt long fingers encircle her calves to hold her still as Loki methodically kissed his way from her toes to her ankles. "Loki," she murmured, half-awake and fully wanting him.

He took his time, though, kissing every inch of her skin, making his deliberate way up her body. His lovemaking was slow, intense, as devout as if he worshiped a goddess. By the time he finally slid inside her, Taryn was almost mindless with desire, crying his name, begging him just as he'd begged her last night. He kept her on the edge until she completely lost control, biting his shoulder, and he groaned a desperate litany in that other language as he finally sent them both over the edge into ecstasy.

Taryn's eyes were soft and smoky with satisfaction when Loki was able to raise his head and look down at her again. "That sounded like a bit more than  _oh God yes_ ," she teased.

It was, but Loki didn't tell her that. The words had poured out without his conscious direction, but this time he knew what he'd said.  _I'll give you anything_ , he'd moaned in an ancient language she couldn't possibly know, a _nything in all the Realms, just never leave me. I'll be your slave for eternity, just never leave me. Love me, stay with me, never leave me. Never leave me._

"Hmm," he replied, smiling lightly. "Must've been  _oh God yes, please baby please, don't stop, harder, faster…"_  He moaned the words in imitation of a porn star's highly-faked voice.

Taryn snorted and smacked his shoulder. "You're so full of it," she said, but there was laughter in her voice.

The sun had already reached its zenith when Taryn finally left the bed, wrapped in the sheet that did very little to conceal her body from his avid gaze. She crossed to one of the enormous wardrobes against the wall and opened it. "We're going to be late. Aren't you going to get dressed?" she asked over her shoulder as she pulled out a dress at random, not even sparing a glance at the selection.

"I promise that the feast will still be there whenever we arrive. Aren't you going to dither and debate about what to wear like a typical woman?" he returned, lounging nude and unconcerned across her bed as he watched her and made no move to reclaim his own clothing. Leaving her bed and getting dressed ranked right up there on Loki's list of things he had absolutely no desire to do, ever.

She snorted and held up the sapphire dress she'd pulled out–long, elegant, with a high collar that plunged deeply to a fitted bodice which was encrusted with sparkling sapphires. It was art on a hanger. "It doesn't matter what dress I choose. Everything in Asgard is almost obscenely gorgeous." She looked at him with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Two words which incidentally perfectly describe you."

Loki smiled and beckoned to her. "Come convince me of that."

Taryn laughed at that and shook her head. "Insatiable," she mock-scolded, reminding him of the title she'd given him back on Earth. He leered at her and waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh again, but she shook her head and gestured at the dress she still held up. "We need to get dressed, Loki. But this is the wrong color. Change it, please?"

"You look beautiful in blue," he pointed out.

"And I didn't look beautiful in your green yesterday?"

Just the memory of her in that dress was enough to make his heartbeat stutter. "You were gorgeous," he said, the understatement of the century. "But that was yesterday."

"And this is today, and I want to wear green again," Taryn persisted. Staring at him for a moment, her eyes suddenly narrowed in suspicion. She crossed to the wardrobes and threw open all their doors, exposing a rainbow of opulence within, gowns in every style, every color imaginable… excepting one. "Is there any particular reason there's no green at all here?"

Loki sat up, suddenly agitated. "Once can be excused," he said, looking away now because yes, he'd done that on purpose–not to deny her, never that, but to  _protect_  her. Wearing his symbol was one thing, but his color… it would rub their relationship in the Æsir's faces. "If you persist in wearing my color, we'll be linked in a way none can ignore. My return to Asgard has not been all sunshine and kittens, Taryn. I have enemies. You might do well to wear the blue."

"And you might do well not to tell me what I should or shouldn't do," Taryn said, tone mild, gaze hot. He looked away and she persisted. "Do you think I fear anything or anyone enough to pretend I don't love you?" she said softly, and almost against his will, Loki looked at her again. She touched the Oroborous at her throat. "Do you have so little faith in me, and in this?"

Loki was silent for a long moment, his fears for her warring with the exaltation of his heart at hearing her say she loved him. And she was right–that necklace would protect her, just as it had in the mirror realm. But to make her a target, to use his magic to place her in danger…

Finally, he sighed. "You truly want this?" he asked, and despite the lightness of his tone, Taryn heard the solemnity of his question. "Knowing, here, what it means?"

She draped the dress over the vanity bench and returned to the bed. "My heart is yours, Loki," she told him softly, kneeling beside the bed and taking his hand in both of hers. "And I don't care who knows it."

He just looked at her for a long time. Taryn wordlessly raised his fingers to her lips and kissed them. Finally, he smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes. "You truly would wear my color, claim me before all the Æsir, come what may," he said wonderingly. "The second son, the outlaw, the trickster, Jötunn sorcerer, liar and betrayer?"

"The man I love," Taryn corrected. "Come what may." And she didn't resist when he pulled her into his arms and held her tight for a long time without speaking. When he finally released her, all the dresses were deeply green, shimmering with the mark of his magic, and she smiled with satisfaction.

They entered the feasting hall together, Taryn on Loki's arm, and just as he'd assured her, the celebration was still in full swing. Loki again loaded her trencher with delicacies as Sigyn once more circled the high table and filled their goblets with wine, and they breakfasted on the best Asgard had to offer as music played and rowdy warriors danced with laughing maidens. Midway through their meal, Odin and Frigga arrived to a fanfare from the musicians and cheers from all assembled, Sif and Hogun at their heels. Soon Volstagg also joined the celebration. The big warrior immediately began eating his way through an impressive array of food, claiming that he needed to feed his hangover to kill it.

"Perhaps you should simply drink less," Loki suggested dryly. Volstagg responded to that with a look of sheer horror and Sif and Taryn laughed at him.

As soon as Taryn finished the last bite of another golden apple, Odin stood and held out his hand to her. "A dance, dear lady, if you please," he said with a courtly little bow.

Loki's hand tightened on Taryn's waist for just an instant before he released her–almost too fast for notice, but Taryn knew him too well. She smiled at Loki before standing and accepting the All-Father's hand.

Despite the reassurance of her smile, her heart was in her throat at the prospect of dancing with Odin. She'd spent too much of her life drenched in tales of Odin's power, wisdom, and great age to really be comfortable in his presence, much less held near him and dancing!

Besides the fact that deep inside, she was still more than a little angry at him for his treatment of Loki all these years.

Still, it wasn't like she could exactly refuse. She tried her best to relax and put that out of her mind as he swept her around the floor. After a moment, he smiled down at her. "How are you enjoying Asgard so far?"

"It's lovely–awe-inspiring–so much more than anything I could ever have imagined," Taryn answered honestly. Hopefully sticking to small talk would make the dance pass without incident–she hoped also that she didn't step on his toes or trip, or do anything else hideously embarrassing.

"Loki missed you terribly," Odin said, and smiled again when her cheeks heated with the blush she couldn't fight at the memory of how he'd demonstrated exactly how much he'd missed her all night long–he hadn't been kidding about rounds two, three, four, and beyond. "The women of Midgard are special indeed. They have tamed both my sons."

She laughed and shook her head. "I wouldn't say that. I don't think anything could tame those two."

"Ah, well, you may be right. Thor is a force of nature and Loki has ever been wild and unpredictable," Odin agreed with a little laugh. Then he sobered, and although he still smiled, he was serious when he added, "But be that as it may, you have given Loki something that none of us were ever able to, and I am grateful to you for it."

"Why is that? Would it have been so hard for you to love him as you loved Thor?" she asked suddenly, the words out before she'd even known she meant to speak them. "That's all he ever wanted."

Odin was silent as he swept her around the floor. Taryn cursed her runaway tongue, wondering if it was the wine, so much stronger than she was used to, that so emboldened her. She was about to open her mouth to apologize–had she  _really_  just criticized the parenting skills of the  _All-Father?_ –when he nodded. "You are right," he said, stunning her utterly. He saw her shock and smiled a little. "You have no children, so it is difficult to explain to you how hard it can be to love two such different sons equally."

"Especially when one of them is the child of your most hated enemy," she said, now thinking  _the hell with it._  She'd told Loki what she thought of the way the Æsir had always treated him. Why not tell Odin, too? If he was as wise as all the stories said, it wasn't like he'd exactly be shocked by her opinion. Anyone who loved Loki would've felt the same.

Odin raised an eyebrow at her boldness but to her relief, he didn't look particularly displeased at the turn of the conversation. "I did not hate Laufey. He was an admirable warrior and a brave king who cared for his people," he said, surprising her. He nodded when he saw it. "Yes, he was my enemy, but he would not have been such a worthy foe had he not also been noble and strong and wise."

"Yet you still stole his son," Taryn said.

Odin shook his head. " _Stole_  is not quite correct. The word I would choose is  _rescued_. I found Loki in their temple after Laufey's defeat, when we Æsir searched Jötunnheim for treasures and weapons. They didn't realize the babe was both. They saw only a runt, too small for a giant's son, a weak creature who had been abandoned to die. That is their custom–the weak are sacrificed to the Spirit of Winter so that the strong may thrive."

Taryn couldn't hide her wince at that thought. How any parent could just abandon a child to die was beyond her. "I could have left him there, and there are many who would say I should have," Odin continued. "But taking Loki from Jötunnheim after the war was more than an act of mercy. I saw his potential and thought to incorporate Laufey's strengths into my house by raising his son here. The Jötunn have many gifts that the Æsir do not, the very things at which Loki so excels–magic, strategy, intelligence… a certain twist of mind that sees all paths within a conflict, and not just the one that leads to smashing things with a hammer," he added wryly. "The Æsir are a warrior culture. We needed these things to keep from becoming stagnant."

Taryn nodded. She hadn't actually expected Odin to explain himself to her–why should he? Being king permanently excused one from ever having to justify anything. Well, she would make the most of this unexpected chance. "Those very things made him an outsider," she pointed out. "I don't think he ever knew you valued them."

Odin sighed. "And that was my great failing. The gods are not infallible, no matter what your Midgard legends tell you," he admitted sadly.

Curious, she asked, "Why are you telling me this?" She'd never expected him to be so open with her. It was almost as though he'd known she would ask these things, had prepared his answers beforehand. As though he was eager to explain Loki's past to her.

The All-Father met her gaze openly. "In part it is because you returned my son to us from the dead, and I am trying to rebuild more bridges in Asgard than merely the Bifrost. And not least because soon you will wed him." Taryn stumbled at the matter-of-fact pronouncement and Odin raised a brow. It was the first time he'd seemed taken off-guard during the entire conversation. "This surprises you?"

She shook her head, trying to untangle her thoughts. "No, no, of course not, it's just… he hasn't asked me," she said, knowing it sounded weak. After all, she wore an enchanted necklace that bound her life to his. It wasn't like she hadn't been aware of what kind of commitment that implied, from him as well as her.

Odin laughed, a booming, merry sound. "He will," he replied with utter assurance. "I know his mother has already spoken to him of it."

Taryn was suddenly angry and wasn't sure why. She wished now that she hadn't had wine with the meal. "I wish none of you would pressure him," she said hotly, her voice sharper than she'd meant, and Odin's smile faded. She jerked her chin at the revelry around them, Thor's lavish wedding feast. "He's been in his brother's shadow all his life. Now Thor's married, and everyone's thrilled. Okay, fine. But how about not shoving him into this particular shadow? Please?" she added, realizing that she was coming perilously close to haranguing Odin.

The All-Father studied her intently as the music wound to an end and they came to a standstill amid the other dancers. She flushed under his scrutiny but didn't look away–if she was bold enough to say it (and how the hell had she ever been?), she would just have to be bold enough to take the consequences of it.

"You are wise, Taryn Roswell, and perhaps you understand my son better than I," Odin finally said, inclining his head regally to her.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice faint with relief. Then, knowing she'd crossed all kinds of lines during this dance, she bowed her head and added, "If I have given offense with anything I've said, All-Father, I–"

But Odin smiled and shook his head, squeezing her hands warmly. "You love my son," he replied, as if that excused everything. And perhaps it did. "No offense was given. Return to him in peace."

 


	15. Conspiracies

Taryn's knees trembled with delayed reaction as she returned to the table where Loki waited. She saw immediately through his pretense of lounging in utter relaxation–the fine muscles around his eyes and mouth were tense, and his gaze was sharp as he searched her face. "Good conversation?" he asked mildly, and she sat beside him and clasped his hand tight under the table.

"Oh, God, Volstagg's not the only one who needs to lay off the wine," she groaned, pressing her forehead to his shoulder for a moment, still almost unable to believe the things she'd said, but then laughed and shook her head when Loki's gaze sharpened further with worry. "But yes, it's fine," she reassured him. "I'll tell you later."

He leaned closer, clearly not ready to let it drop. "Tell me now."

She smiled and laced her fingers through his. This was far too public a place for Taryn to share all that Odin had told her. Those revelations, the reasons the All-Father had taken Loki and all he valued about his adopted son, needed to be repeated in private where Loki wouldn't have to guard his reactions from unkind eyes. "It's fine, really," she repeated, and then Thor and Jane arrived, and the sheer volume of the cheers that greeted them put an end to Loki's questions.

As before, Thor ate hugely of everything. Jane also had quite an appetite. Both endured the ribald teasing about working up such a hunger with good grace, Jane blushing and Thor grinning widely. Loki sipped his wine and kept an arm around Taryn, contributing his own gentle teasing to the jovial atmosphere.

Odin and Frigga returned to the table after a few minutes. Odin soon claimed Jane's hand and led her away, and at a smile from his mother, Loki stood and asked her to dance as well. Taryn propped her chin on her hand and watched, caught by her lover's grace as he swept his mother around the floor.

Thor leaned over the table and grinned at her. "And how are you enjoying the hospitality of Asgard, Taryn?"

She returned his smile warmly. "Thank you so much for bringing me here, Thor," she said sincerely. "I owe you big-time. I don't know how much longer I could've lasted without seeing your brother again. I was starting to go seriously insane in that cabin by myself."

Thor waved a hand dismissively. "Ahh, 'twas nothing, truly. All the thanks I need was seeing Loki's face when you emerged from the Bifrost Chamber. It was truly priceless. I'm not sure I've ever surprised him before." His eyes twinkled at the memory and she smiled, too. For an instant, all Loki's emotions–shock, hope, joy–had been raw and exposed for the world to see. "No other maiden has ever put such an expression upon my brother's face, you know. Someday you'll have to make an honest man of him."

Taryn stifled her sigh and laughed instead. It seemed that everyone was eager to push Loki down the aisle with her. But Thor's face was open and kind, not pressuring, and she chose not to take offense this time. "Perhaps I will," she replied instead, looking back at Loki as he and Frigga swept through the dance. He was smiling and his mother laughed at something he said. "I'm so happy he's made peace with his parents."

Thor took a deep drink of mead and sighed, going serious unexpectedly. "He has with Mother, true enough," he agreed, "but there are still things for which he has not forgiven Father, and perhaps never will." His face was shadowed with pain. "And I cannot truly say that I blame him."

She remembered Odin saying that he was trying to rebuild more bridges than just the Bifrost. "I hope he'll find peace with Odin in time," she murmured. That agonized sorrow in Thor's gaze had been echoed in Odin's single blue eye.

"He raised us to believe all Jötunn were monsters. Evil to the core," Thor growled, his hand tight on his goblet. "Can you imagine that, Taryn?  _Monsters!_  And then he told my brother he was one of them. It's enough to drive anyone mad. How can we blame Loki for anything he did after that?"

Taryn wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. Seriousness was just as odd on Thor's face as naked emotion was upon Loki's. Instead she took a sip of wine–much smaller this time, mindful of how her tongue had run away with her earlier. Before she could decide what to say, Thor tossed his napkin onto the table and stood, holding his hand out to her. "Come," he said, smiling to chase the solemn moment away. "I would have a dance with the woman who will soon be my sister, unless I know my brother not at all."

Taryn accepted his hand with a smile and let him lead her out to join in the dancing. "How has his return been received?" Taryn asked, thinking of what Loki had said when she'd asked him to turn her dresses green.

Thor's smile wavered a bit. "Better from some quarters than others," he admitted after a moment. "But once Sif and the Warriors Three were persuaded to accept him, the rest of the palace began to fall in line."

She bit her lip. How would the disdain of the palace have been expressed before that happened? She remembered Sigyn filling the wine goblets last night–the royal family was always served by highly honored nobles, not serving wenches. Such nobles might have felt free to slight Loki, even under the noses of Odin, Thor, and Frigga. "It hasn't been easy for him," she murmured, saying it as a statement, not a question.

Thor sighed. "Not always. But I have kept my vow to you, Taryn. He has never faced any of it alone."

She smiled and hugged him. "Thank you."

The music ended and they joined in the applause. Thor excused himself to claim Jane for the next dance, and Taryn found herself intercepted by Fandral before Loki could claim her instead. "I beg your favor for a dance, sweet lady," the blond warrior said, bowing, and although Loki scowled beside him, Taryn could think of no polite way to refuse. She smiled and nodded, allowing him to lead her back to the floor.

"Watch carefully where you place your hands, Fandral," Loki called as Fandral led her away, "because you can be assured that  _I_  shall." Fandral laughed, unintimidated.

Taryn had all she could do just to keep up with him. The band played something fast-paced and he swung her around in a quick step, somehow still managing to keep up a stream of conversation the entire time. She was glad he was satisfied with smiles, nods, and monosyllabic answers, because she truly didn't have the breath for more. When the dance ended, she curtsied with relief and tried once more to return to Loki.

This time, it was Volstagg who caught her before she could do so. "I cannot allow Fandral to keep you to himself," he proclaimed, catching her hand and swinging her back to the dance floor. "Come, Lady Taryn, honor this old warrior with a turn about the floor!"

"Of course," she said, trying to sound gracious through her breathlessness.

Volstagg, at least, wasn't as energetic a dancer as Fandral, and she was able to catch her breath soon. He was jovial and smiling, easy to relax with, and Taryn soon found herself enjoying the dance. "You are a vision, lady," he told her with a wink. Then he leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Never let Thor hear that I said so, but between the two sons of Odin, Loki has certainly found the lovelier flower of Midgard."

She blushed, smiling. "And never let him hear it said, but between Jane and I, I have certainly claimed the handsomer son of Odin."

Volstagg laughed, a booming sound that reminded her of Thor's unrestrained mirth. "I would not tell him such," he promised. "Ahh, the hearts of many Æsir maids were broken when the two of you crossed the Bifrost yesterday. Loki may be but the Second Son of Asgard, but his silver tongue has always ensured that his list of conquests ever exceeded that of his brother."

Taryn raised an eyebrow and Volstagg seemed to realize what he'd just said, because he blushed crimson.

"Of course that is all over now!" he burst out hurriedly. "He has been true to you, I vow it. Not once since his return to Asgard has he so much as looked upon any Æsir maiden with desire."

This time she laughed. "Don't worry, Volstagg," she reassured him. "I know."

When the song ended, the warrior bowed to her with clear relief that his slip of the tongue hadn't offended her. This time, though, it was Heimdall himself who stopped her from reaching Loki. She accepted his invitation to dance even though her feet were starting to ache.

"I am glad you were able to join in the celebration," Taryn told him politely, but actually, she was quite surprised to see him join in the feasting. From her studies, she knew that the Watcher Between Worlds rarely if ever left his post.

"I cannot stay long," Heimdall replied as if reading her mind. "I wished to speak with you apart from Loki, Taryn Roswell, and saw little chance of doing so other than this."

Her smile faded at his seriousness. "You have my full attention, Gatekeeper."

Heimdall's golden eyes were intimidating in their unblinking gaze. "You are not safe here," he said, his tone mild as ever. Despite that, she gasped. "As yet there are only murmurs, nothing I can take action upon. But you should be aware that the Æsir are not all united in joy at Thor's wedding to a mortal woman, and they are less so at the prospect that Odin's second son seems likely to follow in Thor's footsteps. Little love though they give to Loki, he still remains an heir of the All-Father, and not all will accept the watering of Æsir blood with that of Midgard. You should be cautious whom you trust."

For a moment, Taryn could only stare at him. Heimdall continued to lead her unerringly through the intricate steps of the dance. Finally she found her tongue. "Have you spoken of this to him?"

Heimdall shook his head. "His mind is not clear when it comes to you. I would fear he would be lost to Asgard forever should he realize that his affection for you would put you in danger here. The All-Father wishes for his family to remain united here in Asgard, for the good of the realm. My loyalty is to the king before all else and I will do all in my power to see that his wish becomes reality."

Taryn bit her lip. "I don't like keeping secrets from him," she said, but she still hadn't spoken Loki's name and thereby invoked the magic that would have let him hear the conversation through her necklace. After Loki's hesitation to turn her dresses green, she knew he was already aware of this to some extent.

"That is your decision, and I would not presume to advise you upon it," the Gatekeeper said. The music stopped and he released her, taking half a step back. "I have accomplished my goal, which was to warn you. Be wise, Taryn Roswell, and be wary. Through your love, you have already done the impossible and returned Loki to his home among the Æsir. It would be a tragic fate to lose him again through that love. Asgard needs him, though its citizens seem to know it not." He bowed to her, then turned and left the feasting hall.

Loki appeared at her side the second Heimdall left her. Taryn hesitated only an instant before turning to him with a smile. "Finally," he said, drawing her into his arms for the next dance. "I was beginning to suspect a conspiracy to keep you from me."

"I think it was a conspiracy to wear out my poor feet," she replied, relaxing into his arms–and if he held her a bit closer than the dance called for, she certainly wasn't going to object. After three months apart, one night in his arms, however passionate, hadn't been nearly enough to fulfill all her cravings for his embrace.

Loki smiled. "Would you rather skip the dancing and escape for some fresh air?"

And have some more time alone with him? Taryn knew her eyes sparkled at the very thought. "Definitely," she said, putting aside Heimdall's words to ponder later.

His smile turned to a grin as he clearly saw the direction of her thoughts. Loki spun her around and danced them right out the wide-open doors leading to the terrace. One or two others were out here, but the terrace was enormous enough for privacy. Loki led her to the far end, away from everyone. There he drew her to the railing overlooking Asgard, half-hidden behind a tall pillar, and leaned against it.

The gorgeous view of Asgard at sunset held less appeal for Taryn than did the sight of Loki. He was such a graceful man, Taryn thought with longing, remembering how gorgeous he'd looked as he relaxed nude in her bed only hours before. She heated with the memory and leaned into Loki's body. His arm tightened around her waist. "Know what else I'd like right now?" she murmured, looking up into his glittering green eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. "Tell me." That he would give it to her, whatever it might be, did not need be spoken.

"A kiss," she murmured, reaching up and tracing her fingers over his lips with longing. She wished Asgard wasn't so… so  _proper_. "Do you think we'd scandalize the Æsir if we kissed in public?"

"My lady, I  _live_  to scandalize the Æsir," Loki returned, and caught her laughter with his mouth.

Taryn sighed happily and gave herself up to his passion. Loki didn't make it a quick kiss despite being in such a public area, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. His lips were firm and cool, his tongue a miracle, so clever and quick, caressing hers, darting over her teeth, flashing against her soft palate, seducing her utterly within seconds. His arm around her waist, other hand cupping her jaw, he kissed like a man with all the time in the world to enjoy her. He made love to her with his mouth, his lips and tongue worshiping her. She lost track of time and didn't care. The kisses went on and on, hot and deep and glorious, and Taryn gave up thinking of anything else and let herself be swept away.

Some endless time later, Loki finally pulled away. "I could spend an age just kissing you," he breathed, his gaze so hungry, so hot, such a delicious contrast to his always-cool skin and the icily controlled demeanor he showed the rest of the world. His desires, his emotions, his deepest thoughts–those were saved for her alone. "You are a magic I could never fully explore."

Taryn licked her lips, satisfaction filling her when he watched the motion avidly, thrilling at his clear desire for her. "Silvertongue," she murmured, letting her own need color her tone.

He shivered. "I'm never going to be able to hear that name again without blushing if you keep saying it like that," Loki warned, and she laughed.

"Less talking, more kissing," she ordered, and he leaned down to comply at once.

"Brother, are you out here? We've been looking everywhere for you!"

Loki groaned, a breath away from her lips. "Thor and his hideous timing strike again. We should hide better," he whispered.

Thor shouted just then, catching sight of them. "Too late," she replied sadly.

"Damn," Loki sighed, making her giggle, before he raised his head to see Thor striding toward them with Jane in tow. "And now you've found me," he said, still holding Taryn tightly enough that it was clear just what they'd been doing before Thor's arrival, and while his tone wasn't exactly curt, his displeasure at the interruption was clear.

It made no difference. Taryn met Jane's eyes and saw the petite scientist mouth  _sorry–I tried to stop him!_ Taryn shrugged with a smile. No one could stop the Thunder God from doing anything once he'd set his mind to it. His new wife had no chance.

"Father says he wishes to make an announcement," Thor said when he and Jane stopped at their side. "He has been awaiting your return for some time now."

Loki sighed silently–Taryn only knew because she felt his chest move against her–but he nodded and straightened. "The Nords forbid we keep the All-Father waiting," he said dryly. "Lead the way, brother, and we shall follow."

Taryn squeezed his hand as they followed Thor and Jane back into the feasting hall. "Can we sneak back out here once he's done with his announcement?" she whispered.

Loki gave her a wicked grin. "My lady, once he's done, I'll take you somewhere we won't be found until we wish to be," he promised. "I haven't had nearly enough of your kisses to make up for three months without." Then he raised his voice so that Thor could hear him. "What is this about, brother? It must be important to take you from your own celebration to hunt for us."

Thor's massive shoulders moved in a shrug like the clash of continents. "He has given no hints. Even Mother will say nothing," the Thunder God replied, but he didn't sound particularly worried. For a moment, Taryn envied him that utter confidence, his complete faith in his place in the world. She wished Loki could feel the same. "We are to find out along with the rest of Asgard, apparently."

"Wonderful," Loki murmured, and Taryn fully agreed. Loki had every reason to distrust surprises from the All-Father.


	16. All or Nothing

When all were seated at the feasting tables again, Odin stood and all conversation in the hall died instantly. Loki sat silent and tense beside her. Taryn found his hand beneath the table and laced their fingers together in a mute gesture of support. He squeezed back and caressed her fingers with his thumb.

"My people," Odin said, raising his hands high, and now every sound ceased–no clink of forks, no clatter of glasses or soft footfalls of the many servers broke the silence. "My beloved Æsir, I stand before you today happier than I have ever been in all my long years. Thor, my firstborn, has wed a fine woman who will bless him with many strong sons–" This brought cheers from all gathered and made Jane blush a fiery red– "and Loki, feared lost to us, has returned home to Asgard with a worthy woman of his own at his side!"

This cheer was less whole-hearted, even if Thor did nearly raise the roof with his own shout of joy. Loki didn't appear to notice, but his fingers were tight on Taryn's beneath the table. She smiled to acknowledge the cheers while also leaning her leg against Loki's, feeling his nervousness and wishing she could embrace him. This was the best she could do. When he looked down at her with a smile of his own–his expression was for the gathered Æsir, but the tenderness in his eyes was for her alone–she knew he understood.

When the shouts died away, Odin lowered his hands and gazed down at his sons. Taryn was moved by the emotion in that single blue eye. "Thor–Loki," he said, his voice quieter now as if he addressed only the two of them, rather than all the gathered Æsir who hung on his every word, "you have both far, far exceeded any hopes I could ever have had for you. I have been blessed with sons who are both strong, both noble, both powerful in your own right." He looked directly at Loki now. "I am proud to be your father."

Now Loki was rigid beside her, his hand gripping hers almost painfully. Taryn stared at Odin, praying he wasn't going to say what she somehow knew was coming, knowing Loki wasn't ready for it, knowing he hadn't found the peace he needed to deal with it, wishing he'd wait just long enough for her to tell Loki what they'd discussed during that dance, but her prayers weren't answered.

"I am old," Odin went on, "and I am weary. I cannot choose between my sons–either of you would make a worthy king, but together… together, you will take the Æsir further than I ever dreamed. Therefore, today, I proclaim that I shall entrust the throne of Asgard to both of you. Thor, Loki, beloved sons of Odin, you will rule the Æsir and all the Nine Realms as equals–two wise kings with two strong queens beside you to guide this realm henceforth. Both of you shall rule, or neither. In one month, I shall gladly hand the throne to you and go to my rest, well satisfied that the kingdom and all of Yggdrasil will prosper under your joined rule." Dead silence greeted this announcement, but Odin did not seem to notice–or if he did, he did not care. He raised his arms again, smiling joyously. "Raise your voices in gladness, all of Asgard!" he shouted. "For a new age comes–an age of brotherhood, of peace!"

Somewhere in the back, the cheer began, and it spread. Taryn, like Odin, neither heard nor cared. She gripped Loki's hand hard and pinched his thigh with her other hand, forcing him to look at her. The utter blankness of his face frightened her. Even his eyes, always her window to his soul, were completely frozen.  _"Don't leave,"_  she hissed, feeling his tension, the gathering of his magic, and knowing his desire to get away without any words needing to be spoken. "Don't you dare leave, that'll only make it worse. Smile and we'll figure it out later, just don't leave!"

For an eternal moment, Loki just stared at her. Then something in him thawed and shook off the shock, and he smiled and inclined his head to Odin as she'd bid him. Taryn let her breath out in a rush, a fake smile of her own plastered on her face. Now she knew why Heimdall had gone out of his way to give her that warning, and why Odin had told her of Loki's past during their dance. Why he'd said Taryn would soon wed his son–the All-Father had all but commanded it with that "two queens" thing. What the hell had happened to not pressuring Loki to marry her?

But with that thought the realization hit her, smacking her brain with the force of a meteor strike– _queen?_

Her breath came short as panic squeezed her chest like a vicious claw. How the hell could she be a queen? It had taken her years to stop getting nervous every time she addressed each new class of students–how could she address an entire kingdom? Nausea clutched her stomach, roiling viciously.

 _Later, later, think about it later,_  Taryn thought fiercely, pushing her own turmoil aside as Frigga took her hand and led her and Loki to Odin's side. Jane and Thor stood at his other hand as the cheers continued and the celebration resumed with renewed vigor. She could freak out and fall apart later–right now, Loki needed her. Whatever terror and shock she was feeling had to be only a fraction of what was going through his head.

Loki looked down at her just then and somehow, seeing the fear on her own face that she hadn't quite managed to hide yet seemed to steady him. He released his mother's hand and put his arm around Taryn's waist instead, squeezing comfortingly, and she heard his voice in her mind.  _I told you we should've hidden better._

Taryn laughed at his unexpected humor and his green eyes softened a little. She leaned into him and hugged his waist, accepting the strength he offered, giving him her own.

The rest of the evening was a blur. Taryn and Loki danced, and ate, and drank–well, actually  _Taryn_  drank, downing every drop of liquid courage she could get–while Loki stayed glued to her side at every moment. She wasn't sure who was supporting whom as the night went on. As with last night, it would've been unconscionably rude for anyone to leave until Thor or the All-Father did so, and Odin seemed perfectly happy presiding over the banquet endlessly as Thor's wedding feast was co-opted into a celebration of succession.

The Æsir were eager to offer their well-wishes to the newly proclaimed heirs. The Warriors Three were effusive in their congratulations to both brothers, and Sif expressed her feelings by punching Loki's arm so hard he almost fell into Taryn's lap. But apart from those four, most of the admiration and compliments were for Thor alone.

Loki didn't appear to notice the slights, but Taryn did, and she got progressively more pissed off about it as the evening went on. At some point she started glaring at every Æsir who spoke to Thor and not to Loki, and more than once, the object of her ire caught her eye, flushed, and then awkwardly congratulated Loki, too. She felt her lover's amusement at it but didn't care.

Only when Sif leaned over and spoke to her did Taryn attempt to rein in her temper. "Your eyes are truly terrifying. I would not face you in battle now, Lady Taryn," she murmured. "I beg you, for the peace of the Realm, cool the fires of your rage before you kill someone."

"They are snubbing him," she growled, feeling herself blushing at her own behavior but not willing to stop.

"And he is used to it," Sif replied, and unlike the Æsir Taryn had cowed into speaking to Loki, she didn't back down from the glare Taryn shot her at that comment. "It is the truth, whether you like it or not. It has always been so and he has had centuries to learn to deal with it. Only time will make it stop, if it ever does. But you, Lady, you should take care not to make enemies you can ill afford."

Taryn couldn't argue the wisdom of Sif's advice and finally relaxed with a sigh. "You're right. I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her forehead, feeling all the wine she'd drank today. She really was going to have to cut down before she truly embarrassed herself, and Loki, too. The thought sent a sudden wave of ice through her. Oh, God,  _Loki_ –everything she did reflected on him, and here she was, acting like a… a… she wasn't sure what, but it definitely wasn't queenly. "I'm not going to be good at this, I can already tell."

"On the contrary, my lady," Loki said, his amused voice startling both of them–he had spoken less than a dozen words in the last four hours, and they hadn't been aware that he'd been listening to their whispered conversation. "Royals spend years learning how to quell others with a look. You have grasped that skill with remarkable speed."

Finally Odin and Frigga stood, and to Taryn's relief, they gestured for Thor and Loki to follow them as they made their exit. Cheers followed them out, and the relative quiet outside the feasting hall was a distinct relief. Taryn was surprised to see that it was still night–the feast had gone on so long, she'd fully expected to walk out to full sunlight, but dawn was just touching the eastern sky with hints of pink and purple. The six walked in silence through the gates of the palace.

In fact, no one spoke until they reached the private rooms of the royal wing. As soon as the door shut behind them, closing the family away without guards or witnesses, Loki wordlessly drew Taryn to his side and began to lead her toward the far exit.

Odin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Will you leave so soon, my son?" he asked softly. "I had hoped you would stay and discuss this with us."

Loki paused but didn't turn to look at him. "You clearly do not require my input for your decisions, All-Father," he said, and his voice was colder than Taryn had ever heard it. "Apparently it is sufficient for me to discover your plans along with the rest of the kingdom."

"This was always my wish, Loki," Odin said, still calm, not reacting to his adopted son's icy anger. "With two kings, Asgard will be twice as stro–"

Loki released Taryn abruptly and whirled on the All-Father. "Always  _your_  wish," he hissed, "and no one else's wishes matter. I have never been more to you than a thing to be used, and I have accepted that, but you had no right to draw Taryn into your scheming. Did you even bother to ask if she is willing to give up her life on Midgard and stay here to serve your plans?"

Frigga stepped forward but Odin raised his hand, stilling her. "Your lady loves you. She will be happy to stay where you are. Is that not true, Taryn?"

"You don't get to speak to her," Loki snapped before she could answer. "She is not your tool."

"You are my son, Loki. You were never a tool to me," Odin replied sadly. "I do not know how to convince you that I speak the truth. I have welcomed you home, given you the most precious thing I possess–the throne of Asgard. What more do you need to believe me?"

The silence was brittle, sharp as a blade, and it was Thor who broke it. "Father, Mother, I ask you to leave us," he said as he stepped to Loki's side. "Please."

Frigga's worried gaze stayed glued to Loki, but his glare never left Odin's face. Finally, after an eternal minute, the All-Father nodded and escorted Frigga out without another word, pausing at the doorway only to cast a silent, longing look back at his sons before closing the door quietly.

The tension eased when they were gone, but not by much. Taryn placed a hand on Loki's back and felt him almost vibrating with suppressed emotion. His fists were clenched at his sides. She exchanged a worried look with Thor. "Brother, I had nothing to do with this," Thor told him, clearly unsure how to defuse Loki's rage. "I know you did not want this."

"I know, Thor." Even Loki's voice was rough with anger. "I know you wanted this even less than I."

"But I  _do_  want it, Loki. You will be a good king," Thor burst out, as though he could not contain the words. "Brother, you are clever, and eloquent, and gifted in diplomacy, and you possess magic and all the strengths I lack. Even when we were children, I could never imagine taking the throne without you at my side. Will you not at least consider it?"

Loki laughed, but it was dry, without humor. "Yes, my destiny was always to be beside you as you ruled, Thor, but only in the shadows," he countered. He finally turned and faced the room. "I should have been your advisor, your court magician, your ambassador, but nothing more than that. Do you so soon forget what happened the last time I sat upon the throne of Asgard?"

Thor waved a hand, dismissing Loki's madness and genocidal rage as if it didn't matter. "You are different now," he replied simply.

"Yes," Loki agreed, but there was no comfort in his tone. "I am far more powerful now. I could wreak even greater destruction."

"But you won't," Thor said, absolute assurance in his voice, and Jane and Taryn nodded firmly.

"You can't know that!" Loki burst out. He looked between the three of them, ran both hands through his hair in an utterly uncharacteristic show of frustration. "Thor, you know only a hint of my increased power. I haven't shown you a fraction of all I can do now."

Thor stepped forward as if he would clasp his brother's shoulder, but Loki stepped back and didn't allow it. Thor let his hand fall to his side again with a sigh. "You used that power to create a gift for your lady that saved both our lives in the mirror realm. You used it to create weapons that disabled your enemy without killing," he said, referring to the pain spell that had so effectively taken him out of commission that day. "You have been given the chance to do harm and have not. You can't know that you'll turn to evil, Loki. Why do you think you would?"

"You speak of parlor tricks. I am more than that now," Loki replied, and he dropped his glamour.

Taryn didn't step back, but it was only because her feet were suddenly frozen with shock. But she was glad of that an instant later when Loki's tormented gaze fell on her and she was able to hold it without flinching.

Because despite his power, all his strength, the man inside was suffering terribly.

Magic rolled from Loki in waves of ice and fire, making the very room tremble beneath their feet. He seemed to grow before them, his shoulders broadening as his muscles swelled to rival even Thor's physique, becoming the giant he truly was, the giant whose true stature had been permanently stunted by the All-Father's spell which had bound him in the form of an Æsir from infancy. His cape and hair blew back in a wind none of them could feel, billowing with power. He moved a single finger and the flames of the torches flared and whipped as if aching to be free, drawn by it. Blue crawled over his skin and revealed the warlord's markings and the black lines of his sorcery along with the red, blazing eyes of his Jötunn heritage. He revealed it all, holding nothing back.

"I passed through Chaos when I fell from the Bifrost, Thor, and it was either master it or be consumed by it. I  _am_  Chaos now," Loki said, his voice a deep growl, saturated with magic, but for all the power he revealed, for all that he still addressed his brother, his tortured gaze remained on Taryn's. "And Chaos is not clever or diplomatic or kind. It cannot rule even itself, much less a realm."

She stepped forward, through the blistering waves of his magic, ignoring the danger, trusting in Loki because she knew to her soul that he would not hurt her. Ever. "I'll help," she said, looking up at him, so far up, and took his too-large hand in both of hers. This time the cold of his Jötunn form did not freeze her. Her hand swirled with the green mark of his magic where she held him tight. Even now, his gift protected her. "Loki, I'm here with you. I'm not going anywhere."

"And I will help too, brother," Thor swore immediately.

He reached out as though he would take Loki's other hand, but Loki pulled away. "No, Thor, I'll freeze you," he said to take the sting out of the rejection. He still held Taryn's eyes, though. "This doesn't disgust you?"

She shook her head. He still looked doubtful, though, so she said, "Honestly? You look intimidating as hell. I think you could win any wars for Asgard just by showing up like this. Your enemies would take one look, wet themselves, and run home crying for mama." She reached up and touched the lines that ran from his lips down his throat. "And it's actually pretty sexy, in a bad-ass Smurf kind of way."

Loki laughed, and with his laughter the power receded. Within moments he was back to his normal form, the chaos within him locked tightly away once more. "You have such a way with words, my lady."

She smiled cheekily. "Comes from hanging out with you. Silvertongue."

He laughed a little at her, but then he went serious again and faced his brother. "What Odin did tonight was wrong," he said. "Both of us or neither–it was wrong. The throne was always to be yours and we both know it. This slights you. I don't want that."

Thor immediately clasped his shoulder as he'd intended moments before. "Our father was wrong to do this without speaking to you first," he agreed, "but he wasn't wrong about this plan. Your new power is fearsome, I will admit that, but you control it, Loki– _you_  control  _it_ , not the other way around. A king needs such control, and we both know I lack it. It is no slight to give me what in needful to rule wisely. Will you think about it? He has given us a month to prepare–take that time to consider it, brother, please."

Jane stepped forward then, biting her lip. "Loki," she said hesitantly, "do you think that the reason it all went wrong for you before was that you were missing half of what you needed to be king?"

The brothers looked at her, both frowning, but Taryn understood what she meant. "Yes, Jane, exactly. You are two halves of a whole," she said, and Jane nodded. "Thor, you are might and Loki is magic. You are strength and Loki is cunning. A king needs to be able to do what neither of you can do alone, but together, you will make one hell of a team."

Loki opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. He appeared to be thinking it over, which was more than Taryn had honestly thought he'd do.

Thor spoke again before Loki had a chance to reply. "Even if Father changed his mind and rescinded the  _both or neither_  stipulation, I need you for this, Loki. Of the two of us, you are the only one who knows what it's like to be King of Asgard. But more than that, I need you on our side, protecting my back as I will protect yours."

"You hardly need protection, God of Thunder," Loki said wryly.

Thor put his arm around Jane. "I might not, but our child will." Utter silence met this, and Thor grinned hugely as Jane blushed. "Brother, we wanted to tell you first. Jane already carries our babe."

There was a moment of utterly shocked silence. Taryn broke it. "Congratulations!" she cried, going to the other woman and hugging her.

Loki just stared, stunned, and Thor jumped on the chance. "We want you to be his godfather."

"Or  _her_ ," Jane interjected, and Thor smiled indulgently.

"Yes, or her," he agreed. "Brother, will you do it?"

"Of course," Loki said at once, taking Taryn's hand when she returned to his side.

"And will you help me protect Jane now?" Thor pressed, going for any sign of weakening in Loki's denial. "She is mortal, and despite Idunna's apples, she will never be strong as an Æsir. Don't leave Asgard, Loki. Stay, please. Help me bear the burden of the throne. I need my brother with me now."

Loki sighed and Taryn gave Thor a glare–not as fierce as she'd given the Æsir who'd spoken to Thor but not to Loki, yet still enough to get his attention. "You're pressuring him again," she warned.

"Yes, I am," Thor agreed. "And I hope to find you on my side in this, Taryn."

"No. I'm on Loki's side," she said, eyes narrowing. "No one else's."

Thor nodded, grinning hugely. "Which is as it should be. Now, it's late, and we should all get some rest. Father gave us a month, Loki–we don't have to decide everything tonight. There are three more days to the wedding feast and then things will go back to normal. Will you agree to talk about it with me again then, brother?"

Loki sighed again, but he nodded. Thor's grin widened, if that was possible. Then, wishing them goodnight, he drew Jane away.

 

 

 

 


	17. A Little Faith

Taryn hugged Loki tight as soon as they were alone. "Don't say anything. I don't want to talk any more. Take me to bed," she whispered against his chest. "My feet hurt, I'm tired, I'm a little drunk, and I don't want to think about anything else tonight except how good you taste."

He shivered against her and pulled back enough to smile down at her. Wordsmith that he was, surely he'd never spoken anything as alluring as that. "That, my lady, is a plan of which I fully approve."

Loki took her to his rooms this time. There was no further point in pretending she would be staying in the guest suite. Odin had all but proclaimed that she would marry Loki tonight, and her insistence on wearing his color didn't hurt, either. All of Asgard knew by now that she was his lover and Loki would not waitanother minute to have her in his chambers where she belonged.

Besides, he'd dreamed of having her in his bed for years now. It was far past time for that dream come true.

But it was an interminably long walk through the vast royal wing to his chambers, a trek made more arduous by Taryn's insistence on dragging him out of sight every time anyone passed by. She said she didn't want to risk any other news that would kill the mood. So he submitted to her request, creeping through his home and trying to remain unseen.

And every time they ducked into a shadow or dove out of sight, she kissed him until his toes curled in his boots. He'd done this a thousand times, sneaking his way through the palace back to his rooms, but never had it been so thrilling. Every time a guard walked by, he would tug her behind a statue, or into the lee of a pillar, or simply drew the shadows around them until the guard passed by. And every time, Taryn would kiss him hungrily, or lick his neck, or suckle his earlobe until he wasn't certain his legs would support him when it came time to run to the next alcove, the next hidden shadow.

Finally their destination was in sight. There was no getting past these guards unseen–Odin had stationed Valkyries to guard both his sons' chambers. He did his best to smooth his hair and clothing–rumpled because Taryn had been sliding her hands beneath it, driving him mad with her caresses–and they nodded calmly to the intimidating female warriors posted outside his door before letting themselves inside.

Taryn only waited until the door closed behind Loki before she fell on him, kissing him with a ravenous desire that heated the blaze in his gut to an inferno. Loki caught her close and responded in kind, returning every kiss, every touch, every breathy sigh and moan. Losing himself in her was the sweetest oblivion he could ever imagine. Some unknowable time later, he realized they were still leaning against his door, hands everywhere, his tunic once more disheveled with her hands busy beneath it, her dress unzipped and half hanging off, and he laughed a little into her mouth.

He hadn't been this impatient since he'd been a teenager.

"Come," he murmured, pulling away from those addictive kisses and catching her hands in his. His bed–he needed her in his bed. "Come with me."

"Anywhere," Taryn said, and his heart swelled with joy and love at her instant acceptance.

Loki led her through the sitting room and into his bedchamber. She didn't spare a single glance for the room's luxuries, its opulence. She disentangled her hands from his and pulled his tunic over his head. He obediently lifted his arms, not protesting when she cast the expensive garment carelessly to the floor. What did he care if it was wrinkled beyond recognition? The lust in her eyes as she devoured his bared chest with her gaze was more than enough to justify the abuse of the cloth. "You look at me as though you would eat me alive," he murmured, aching with desire when she just looked, _looked_ and did not touch.

She raised her eyes to his and smiled wickedly. "What a good idea," she said, and dropped to her knees before him, hands going to his waist.

"Oh gods," Loki groaned, and that was all he had time for before she'd freed his cock from his pants and engulfed him in her hot mouth. The sounds coming from his mouth now were almost animal, groans of such pleasure he wasn't sure he'd survive it. Her tongue traced the vein running up his cock, flicked over his head, then she sucked him deep, bringing a hoarse shout from his lips. She hummed with satisfaction, making his knees buckle, and then they were entwined on his rug as he tore the dress from her, too impatient to bother with doing it properly. Too desperate to have her skin beneath his hands.

Her breasts were soft perfection in his hands, her nipples hard little pearls beneath his tongue. Taryn arched, crying out, each gasp and moan music to his ears. He felt her hook her toes in his waistband, shoving his pants down with her feet, and laughed against her skin at her creativity. Her nails dug into his back and he kissed his way up to her throat. Teasing the place he'd marked that day in her kitchen, worshiping her skin with lips and teeth and tongue, he reveled in how she writhed beneath him.

Her fingers closed over his shaft, kicking the air from his lungs, and she guided him to her wet entrance. "Inside me," she growled, fierce with passion. "Now!"

"My lady, your command is my wish," Loki purred in her ear, and he sank deep with a single thrust.

He hooked one knee over his forearm, opening her fully to him, riding her hard and fast, too hot for anything like finesse. Taryn was right there with him, though, meeting his every thrust with uplifted hips, one hand tangled in his hair, the other scoring his back with her nails, almost mindless in her ecstasy. "Bite," he growled in her ear, some bestial part of him driven even higher by the sting of her nails on his back. "Bite me."

She did, sinking her teeth into the cords of his shoulder, and Loki shouted with the pleasure of it.

"Harder–mark me!" he cried, half demand, half plea, thrusting faster. Taryn bit him again, this time muffling the moans of her orgasm against his throat, and now he was utterly wild, panting, groaning like a beast as he sought his own pleasure, hotter than he'd ever been. She raised her head and caught his lower lip in her teeth, and that was the final trigger he needed. His orgasm ripped through him with a power he'd never imagined and he went rigid with it, feeling her come again all around his cock, every nerve in his body firing with an almost agonizing pleasure.

He collapsed atop her when the ecstasy finally released him, both of them breathing like they'd run a marathon. Loki came back to himself slowly and when he did, he laughed, still a little breathless. "What are you laughing at?" Taryn asked, her voice still hoarse with her own pleasure.

"Myself." He raised his head–it seemed a Herculean task–and kissed her briefly before letting his forehead drop to rest against hers. "I have spent years fantasizing about seeing you in my bed," he told her, "and now, when I finally have the chance, I cannot control myself long enough to actually get you there."

Taryn opened her eyes and saw the bed, less than three steps away. She grinned up at him. "I love making you lose control," she said with pure satisfaction. "You are so contained, my Loki, so very elegant and restrained. I love it when you come undone."

He laughed again and forced his exhausted, sated body to move. He divested them both of the remains of their clothes, then scooped her up off the floor. But instead of carrying her to his bed, he took her to his bathroom instead. A quick murmur filled the enormous tub with steaming water and he lowered her gently, carefully into the water, with all the care due this most precious thing in all the Realms. "You are the only one who makes me behave so," he told her, and her smile was that of a cat who'd gotten the cream and the canary all in one go.

It was sexy as hell.

Loki joined her in the water, drawing her close, just holding her as they both basked in the afterglow. He lifted a bar of perfumed soap and bathed his lover, lavishing his attention on each inch of her skin and kissing her whenever the urge struck him, which was often. When he guided her to lean back and rinse her hair in the water, he couldn't resist the urge to lick a hot path down her arching throat–not that he tried very hard. "Oh, Loki," Taryn moaned, her fingers again in his own hair, and he would have given the universe just to hear his name on her lips in such a tone.

"I love you," he whispered against her skin, and as it had the first time he'd said it, the power of the words rocked him. They sizzled in his mouth, burned him as they left his lips. "I love you so very much, Taryn."

Her fingers loosened in his hair, caressing now instead of holding him captive. "I love you, Loki," she murmured back, and he drew her onto his lap, sliding deep into her welcoming heat again, rocking into her until waves overlapped the edge of the tub and splashed onto the floor, but he didn't care. When she came apart in his arms, crying his name, Loki joined her in oblivion.

Later, much later, after he'd lifted her out of the water and dried her with exquisite care, after he'd carried her into the bedroom and finally, finally laid her down in his bed, after he'd stood back to drink in the sight of her there, her long, lithe body bare and glorious in the morning light streaming through his windows, so much better than his fantasies, Loki joined her beneath the blankets and drew her close. "Do you want to be a queen, my lady?" he murmured, stroking her back, the softness of her skin addicting him still. Even now when he should be too sated to move, he couldn't touch her enough.

"I want to be with you," she replied sleepily, her head pillowed on his chest. "Odin was right about that. I just want to be with you." Then she raised her head and looked down at him, and despite her clear fatigue, her gaze was calm and serene. "I think the more important question is, do _you_ want to be a king and share the throne with Thor?"

Loki sighed. "The last time I was king… it didn't go well."

Taryn stroked his hair back from his forehead, just as she had so long ago when he'd come to her fresh from Odin's rejection. It was a tender gesture, comforting. "Last time there were extenuating circumstances. You were temporarily bereft of sanity," she said, and he had to smile a little at that phrasing. She returned the smile for a moment before going serious again. "Last time is not now, Loki. As you told Thor, you are not what you were. You're no longer trying to win Odin's approval–now you have it. You have a second chance to do it all again, and do it right this time. The only question is, do you want to?"

He thought about it now, seriously considered it. There was something to what she said, and to what Jane and Thor had said. Last time… as Taryn had put it, he'd been temporarily bereft of sanity, driven mad by the revelation that his family was not his, that he was a monster, a Frost Giant. Even so, Loki had still acted to safeguard Asgard to the utmost of his ability. Apart from lying to Thor and sending the Destroyer to Puente Antigua, Loki couldn't say he regretted much of what he'd done. "I was always meant to be Thor's advisor," he said, still hedging.

"Well, co-regent is like an advisor with extra whipped cream and a cherry on top," Taryn pointed out, and Loki snorted a laugh at that. Then she stroked his hair again. "Loki, rest now, don't drive yourself crazy with this. You don't have to make up your mind tonight. You've got time to think."

Yes, and that was a good thing because he couldn't decide now. Not now, not here, in his bed with Taryn finally in his arms here with him. He drew her down to his chest again and she cuddled close with a sigh. "There is a more important matter to discuss," he said after a moment.

"More important than being King of the Nine Realms? I'm almost afraid to ask," Taryn said, amusement in her tone.

He ran a palm down her back, then back up so he could toy with the Oroborous necklace. "Far more important," he told her as he traced the scales of the platinum snake. Deep inside, he knew he would never craft anything half as powerful as this ever again. The chain was a masterpiece in every sense. He hadn't simply bound spells within the coils of this necklace. It was his love infusing it, strengthening every enchantment, even binding her life force to his, enabling her to heal from any wound, live forever with him, perhaps even survive Ragnarok. Thor hadn't lied when he'd told her such a feat should've been impossible. Loki still wasn't entirely sure how he'd accomplished it.

And she'd accepted it, and by doing so, she'd accepted everything about him. Since the moment it had locked itself around her neck, she'd proven that again and again. Even tonight, his power fully exposed, terrifying even to the mighty Thor, she'd walked to his side and taken his hand. He'd created it to move only at her command, and Loki wondered now why he'd done that. If she couldn't remove it, or if it only moved at his wish, she could never leave him. For a moment, he considered attempting to amend the enchantment.

But perhaps it was time for him to show a little faith, too.

"Marry me, Taryn," Loki said, his voice perhaps a bit rougher than normal, the words emerging with a little less than his usual silken delivery. She raised her head, staring down at him, lips parted, eyes wide. He cupped her cheek in his hand. "Marry me. If you will stand before all the Æsir with me and claim me, I will be your slave for the rest of eternity."

Tears came to her eyes and his heart pounded at the sight of them. But she didn't leave him in suspense for long. "Oh, Loki, of course I'll marry you," she whispered, and kissed him. His lips curved beneath hers in a grin of pure joy he couldn't suppress if he'd tried. She pulled away and smiled down at him, tears sparkling on her lashes, and he brushed them away with his thumb, now knowing they were tears of joy. "You don't even have to be my slave, although I reserve the right to order you to bed now and then," she added wickedly. Then she sobered. "Are you this is what you want, Loki? You don't have to do this because of Odin's comment about queens, or because Thor wed Jane, or because of your mother."

He was touched by her words, but truly, Loki didn't give a damn what Odin had said in his little announcement tonight. He didn't care about what Frigga had told him, or following in Thor's footsteps, or even about becoming king. The important thing was binding Taryn to him in every way possible, as unbreakably as possible, and as soon as possible. "Taryn, you know me well enough by now to know I do nothing impulsively. When Thor wed Jane, all I could think of was standing before all the Aesir with you," Loki admitted as he caressed her cheek with gentle fingertips. "I don't want Odin's approval–not now–but…" He couldn't finish the sentence, but Taryn didn't seem to need him to.

She caressed his cheek with gentle fingertips. "Loki, I will be happy to marry you before all of Asgard," she assured him, "whenever and wherever you like. I love you. I'll be beside you whatever comes."

He held her close and squeezed his eyes closed, happier now than he'd ever been. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you, Taryn."

…

Darcy could tell something was different as soon as she entered the feasting hall that afternoon, but she didn't know what it was for almost an hour. But it took far less time than that for her to put the rumors and murmurs together as she danced and figure out that she'd picked the wrong time to let Fandral persuade her to leave the feast for a more private party in his rooms the night before. Clearly some big bad shit had gone down and she'd missed it.

And oh, he'd been every bit as good as he'd boasted, and Darcy had no regrets, but damn, this was epic gossip-fodder and she hadn't even heard it? It wasn't fair. None of the main players were here now–Odin and Frigga, Thor and Jane, Loki and Taryn–and the high table was mostly deserted in their absence, so she couldn't even pick their brains. Was she allowed to sit there without the royals present? Darcy went up to it and sat down there anyway. This was where she'd sat for the last two nights, after all, and it wasn't like she knew anyone else here.

To her great relief, she was almost immediately joined by Selvig. "Hey, Selvig, where've you been?" she asked as a servant hurried over to fill Darcy's goblet with the strong, rich wine the Æsir drank like water. "I didn't see you yesterday."

In fact, he looked somewhat pale today, and he didn't touch his own wine or any of the delicious food piled on platters before them. Seriously, there was enough food on this table alone to bring a third-world country out of famine. The Æsir sure knew how to cater a party. "I was in the healing room," he said, his Nordic accent a bit heavier than usual. "Touch of food poisoning, I think."

Darcy paused, her goblet halfway to her lips. "Seriously? Food poisoning?" She looked around the enormous hall, saw countless Æsir happily nomming their way through the feast. "No one else looks sick," she said, but she eyed the food now with suspicion.

He shrugged. "Eir said it was either that or I'm allergic to something. Must be the allergy, then. Listen, did you hear what happened last night? Have you seen Thor?"

"No and no," Darcy said, putting her goblet back down and leaning toward him. "And I'm about to explode with curiosity and do you really want to clean that up? Share!"

Selvig looked briefly mystified–not that uncommon in Darcy's presence–before he shook his head and answered her. "Odin made Thor and Loki both his heirs," he told her. "He's going to step down for good in a month's time. The way he said it, I think he expects to die."

Darcy just blinked at him. "Um. The big guy is about to kick it?" Her voice showed her shock. "How does he know?"

"He's _Odin_ , Darcy, he just knows," Selvig said, still clearly upset. "Everyone's expected it, from what I gathered when I was in the healing room–most of them didn't expect him to awaken from his last Odinsleep. But to make both Thor and Loki his heirs… that's not going over well. You haven't seen either of them?"

She shook her head. "Aren't they both already his heirs?" she asked, knowing she was going to look stupid for the question and not really caring. Being the only non-brilliant-genius type around Jane and Selvig had practically made her immune to that. "I mean, doesn't that go with the whole son-of-the-king gig?"

"No, you don't understand," Selvig said. He looked around the hall, clearly searching for Thor. "I mean he made them both heir to the throne. As in they will rule together, both King."

She shrugged. "Sounds like a good idea to me," she said, not getting the angst over the whole thing. "No sibling rivalry that way. What's the problem?"

"The throne of Asgard is no place for petty mischief and cowardly tricks."

The words were all but snarled. Darcy spun around to see an Æsir she didn't recognize. The warrior reached past her and grabbed a golden apple–Darcy herself had tried several times to sneak one off the platters, wondering what was so awesome about the things that every Æsir ate them all the damn time, but each time the fruit shriveled and rotted at her touch and that was totally nasty so she'd given up.

She focused on the stranger. "And you are?" she said, eyebrow raised. "Besides seriously hot?" she added, because he definitely was. Even more golden and perfect than Thor, the light from the countless torches and windows refracted off his hair and armor like something out of a Spielberg movie. He didn't sparkle like a Twilight vampire, but damn, it was close.

He crunched a bite of the apple as he looked at her with no warmth at all, and she couldn't help but notice that his teeth were like something out of a toothpaste commercial. She could practically hear the _ping!_ of light off his pearly whites. "Baldur," he replied as if begrudging her the name.

And if he thought it meant something to her, he was doomed to disappointment. "I'm Darcy," she said, holding out her hand and wondering if he'd shake it or kiss it.

He did neither. "Don't care. Unlike our illustrious princes, I don't play with Midgardians." He turned his back and walked away.

No, that wasn't a walk. It was a strut, pure and simple. Darcy was deeply tempted to run after him and kick his perfect, shining ass just because.

"Baldur," Selvig whispered, clearly awed again. When she gave him the eyebrow-raised-blank-stare-head-shake that was universal Darcy-language for _duh, clue me in_ , he clarified, "God of light. The legends say he was the favorite of all the gods. Everyone loved him."

"Yeah, well, count me out. He's an ass," Darcy grumbled, but she could definitely see the god of light thing. Dude must keep a dozen teenybopper glitter-dust manufacturers in business all by himself. "I mean, it's a nice ass and all, but geez, he seriously knows it too much. Can you say ego?"

Selvig sighed and fiddled with a piece of bread. "If an opposition coalesces around him, it's going to be hard on Thor and Loki to maintain authority."

Darcy gave him another look–this time, a rolling-eyes-dubious-stare that meant _duh, ya think?_ She sighed when Selvig didn't seem to get the distinction between that one and the one before and started to explain. She definitely needed to get the old guy a picture-dictionary of all her various _duh_ looks so he could keep up. "You don't need to tell me," she interrupted. When he frowned, she gave him a straight-up _DUH!_ look he'd have to have been stupid to misinterpret. "I'm a _political science major_ , remember? A charismatic opposition figure is really bad news, especially in a warrior culture. That sort of thing leads to–" She broke off, suddenly as worried as Selvig, and lowered her voice in uncharacteristic seriousness. "Do they really hate Loki enough to start a war over this, Selvig?"

 _… petty mischief and cowardly tricks…_ yeah, it sounded like Baldur hated Loki just about enough for war.

Selvig shook his head, still shredding the bread. "I don't know, Darcy. I just don't know."


	18. Poison

Loki awoke with such a deep sense of contentment and joy, it momentarily threw him. While he was used to awakening with his mind going full-speed, emotions and plans and thoughts spinning through his brain, his usual morning companions were feelings of resignation, loneliness, regret. But then Taryn shifted against him, cuddling closer to his chest, and his breath eased out in a long, happy sigh.

Here, in her arms, Loki could regret nothing.

His sigh was all it took to awaken her. Loki smiled and kissed her lips, savoring the sweetness, the sleep-soft taste of her mouth. When she pulled away, she was also smiling. "Was I dreaming," she murmured, her fingertips tracing the planes of his face, "or did you ask me to marry you last night?"

"It was no dream," Loki told her. When her face split in a joyous smile, he added, "Was I dreaming, or did you say yes?"

"It was no dream," she replied, eyes twinkling as she echoed his words. He chuckled and drew her back down to rest upon his chest. The silence was gentle, comforting, and neither of them broke it for a long time. Loki was content just to stroke her back and hair in the late-afternoon quiet. He would never have enough of touching her.

Finally, Taryn ran a hand down his chest and spoke again. "I don't want Odin to marry us. Do you mind?"

That was unexpected enough to still Loki's hands in her hair. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say. Then he finally murmured, "You have studied the All-Father all your life. I would've thought you'd have wanted him to perform the ceremony."

She raised herself up, crossing her arms on his chest and propping her chin on them. "The All-Father I studied is like the Loki I studied," she said, holding his green gaze. "Both like and unlike the stories. And what I have learned of the real All-Father is that he is manipulative and has not treated you with the respect you deserved as his son. Even if he does these things out of love, both for you and for Asgard, it's not right that he took your choices from you."

Loki's heart ached with love for her then, but he tried to keep his tone light when he answered. Even though he trusted Taryn implicitly, he still wasn't comfortable openly displaying his emotions. "You do realize that if Odin does not stand beside Frigga to wed us, my brother is the next choice," he pointed out.

She didn't even hesitate. "I would love for Thor to do it," she said, smiling. "Of all the Æsir, Thor and your mother are the ones who love you best and want nothing more than for you to be happy. Who better to perform the ceremony?"

Put like that, Loki couldn't argue. "What my lady wants, she shall have," he murmured.

Her eyes twinkled. "Does that run to coffee, or just vital matters of state?"

Loki and Taryn did not return to the feast until nearly nightfall. They found Thor and Jane out on the terrace, wrapped in each others' arms and gazing out at the sunset. Loki started to back away, not wanting to disturb such a romantic moment, but at that moment Thor glanced up and caught sight of him.

The blond god gave them a huge smile of welcome and waved them over. "Brother, you look far happier than when last we spoke," Thor observed with clear relief, and Loki didn't bother denying it. He never could have imagined the enormous difference so few hours could have made in his outlook.

"I am." Loki smiled at Taryn, then decided not to waste any time presenting her request to Thor. "We would ask a favor of you, brother, if you are willing."

"Anything, Loki, you know that," Thor said at once, and it still touched Loki that his brother would agree so readily, without even knowing the favor, especially given Loki's extremely questionable recent history.

He cleared his throat as though that would remove the emotions choking him. Then he found a smile for his brother. "Taryn has agreed to be my wife, and we would have you stand in the place of the All-Father at our wedding. Will you do this for us, Thor?"

For a moment, Thor was frozen, jaw agape. Then he let out a joyous shout so loud that Loki was certain it was audible on Midgard. An instant later, he had Loki and Taryn both in a bone-cracking bear-hug. "This is truly a happy day!" he boomed, squeezing them until Loki actually saw the Oroborous necklace glow with a warning green light. Thor dropped Taryn at once–perhaps the protective spells had stung him–but that only meant that he had both arms free to crush the air out of Loki now. "Brother, you honor me greatly! Of course I will!"

"Congratulations, you two!" Jane said, smiling just as widely as her new husband.

"Thank you," Taryn said breathlessly. "But if I'm to have a groom, perhaps you should let Loki take a breath now, Thor?"

"When's the big day?" Jane asked as Thor finally released his brother after one more agonizing squeeze.

"We haven't actually gotten that far yet," Loki replied, massaging his aching ribs. Gods, he'd forgotten just how enthusiastic the Thunder God could be in his displays of affection. What Thor hugged, _stayed_ hugged.

"The realm will have to recover from your wedding first. It might take an age just to replenish the wine and mead," he teased.

"Consider me at your service whenever you need me," Thor said, clapping Loki on the shoulder with such force, he was surprised his knees didn't buckle. Then he turned to Taryn and caught her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. "Thank you, Lady Taryn, for bringing such joy to my brother. I have never seen him so happy in all my long years as when he is with you," he said earnestly.

Loki actually felt himself blushing, but Taryn took it in stride. She leaned into him and wrapped an arm around his waist. "It's not exactly a hardship."

"Come, we must share this wonderful news with all of Asgard!" Thor cried, and he had already caught Jane's hand in his and taken a step toward the door back into the feasting hall when Loki caught his arm.

"Not yet," he said, and even he wasn't sure why he'd said it. Taryn raised an eyebrow but didn't question him, and he was grateful for it. "Thor, this is still your wedding feast," Loki explained, inventing on the fly. "Nothing should overshadow your celebration. Odin has already done so once. I will not do so again. These days are all about your happiness."

Thor waved that away as if swatting an insignificant fly. "And this news has made Jane and I happier than ever, but if that is your wish, brother, then so be it. The announcement shall be made when you decide and no sooner. Until then, as they say on Midgard, our lips are sealed."

"Get ready, though," Jane said, giving Taryn a commiserating look. "The preparations for an Asgard wedding are _insane_."

Taryn groaned theatrically and shook her finger at Loki. "Just think of all I'm going to have to suffer through for this. You're going to have to seriously make it up to me, mister."

He caught her finger and kissed the tip. "In any way you like, my lady," he promised.

When Thor, Loki, Jane and Taryn returned to the feasting hall, they found Selvig at the high table with Sif and Volstagg while Darcy and Fandral tore up the dance floor. "Erik!" Jane cried, running to his side and hugging him tight. "Are you better? What happened?"

"The healers have released me without restrictions," Selvig told her as he released her so they could all be seated, and Loki realized belatedly that he hadn't seen the scientist since the night of the wedding.

"What happened?" Taryn said, repeating Jane's question with concern. Loki also frowned at the silver-haired man. He looked entirely too pale.

"Lady Eir wasn't entirely sure," Selvig said, shaking his head with a shrug. "Best she could figure, I might have an allergy to something I ate the other night. Whatever it was, I was sick as hell for the last two days. But I'm better now," he hastened to reassure Jane when she gripped his hand in alarm. "I just have to stick to plain foods for a few days until I'm fully recovered. Really, Jane, don't worry."

Thor clasped a fist to his chest in a gesture of apology. "Erik Selvig, I beg your forgiveness," he said with deep regret in his voice. "Had I known that the fare we offered would harm you–"

"Please, Thor, there's no way you could have known," Selvig quickly interrupted. "It's just an allergy, probably to some food that doesn't even exist on Earth. No one could have anticipated it. I'll just stick to things I recognize, that's all."

But Thor wouldn't have been Thor if he left it at that. He stood abruptly and left the feasting hall without a word. "Thor?" Jane called after him, but he didn't so much as pause in his determined stride. When his red cloak whipped around the corner, Jane turned her gaze to his brother instead. "Loki? Where's he going?"

Loki shrugged. "Knowing Thor, probably to the kitchens to knock some skulls together over this." When Jane gasped in horror, he smiled. "Metaphorically, of course. Don't worry," he added, wondering if he was lying. Harming a guest in one's hall was a serious offense, and Thor had always taken his duties as a host quite seriously.

Thor wasn't gone long, though. He returned bearing a tray himself and presented it to Selvig with a bow. "I pray that this will meet your needs, Erik Selvig," he said, placing it before the scientist. "If it does not, I will journey to Midgard and procure food for you myself."

Selvig looked overwhelmed at the variety spread before him. Three kinds of breads, toasted and untoasted, hot tea that smelled of chamomile and ginger, five different kinds of soups, sliced oranges, apples–not Idunna's golden ones, though–bananas, chunks of melon, rice with grilled vegetables, cheeses, stewed chicken, and more. For a moment, all he could do was gape at the bounty that had clearly been specially assembled to offer him choices that wouldn't upset his stomach.

Thor clearly misunderstood his hesitation. "I will depart for Midgard immediately," he declared, and he'd already taken three steps before Selvig leapt up and caught his arm.

"No, Thor, please, it's more than enough," he said, tugging the Thunder God to a standstill. "Truly, you've brought me all I could wish for. Thank you."

Thor's scowl melted into a smile at once. "I am glad, my friend!" he boomed, slapping Selvig on the back. Volstagg caught him before he could tumble to the ground from the force of it. "Now, eat and regain your strength! Come, eat, eat!" he urged.

"Loki, was this one of your tricks? If so, it was in very poor taste indeed."

Loki started at the soft voice murmuring in his ear and jerked around to find Sigyn leaning between him and Taryn as she poured wine into the goblets. She didn't look at him, just spoke quietly for his ears only. "You have already defiled one guest of Asgard with your lusts. Would you truly sink so low as to poison another?"

Loki bristled at the vicious words delivered in such a soft tone. It had been a while since he'd heard such venom directed at him and he was shocked at how quickly he'd forgotten its sting. "I would do nothing to harm a guest of Asgard, nor a friend of Thor's," he replied coolly, letting none of his emotions show. Sigyn looked up at him, her blue eyes frankly doubtful, and Loki assumed his usual bored expression to hide his fury at her accusation. He let his lips quirk in a sensual, sarcastic smile. "And _defiled_? That's a bit dramatic. Truly, my dear, you speak as one who has not begged to be similarly treated."

Her fair features flushed a furious red at the deliberate reminder of how she'd always pursued him with single-minded intensity even though he'd rejected her at every turn. Even when he'd returned to Asgard three months ago, despite the scorn of most of the Æsir, Sigyn had taken every opportunity to try to seduce him. Loki raised an eyebrow and twisted the knife a bit. "Leave the wine and go, Sigyn," he commanded lazily, with all the assurance he'd once had as Second Prince, all he now deserved as heir to the throne, compounding the insult by omitting _lady_. "We no longer require your services at table."

Her expression changed to naked hatred for an instant before she covered it with a graceful curtsey. Serving the royal family was a high honor. Being dismissed from that honor was the coldest insult he could give in such a public area without disturbing Thor's celebration. "As the son of Odin commands," Sigyn hissed, all but spitting the words. Then she was gone in a whirl of skirts and indignant rage.

Loki took up the carafe and finished pouring the wine, filling Jane's goblet, the only one Sigyn hadn't yet gotten to. He glanced up to see the scientist's light brown eyes on him. "Everything okay?" she asked in a deliberately light tone.

He nodded with a small smile. "Just one of my many friends come to wish me all the happiness I so richly deserve," he replied mockingly.

Taryn turned with a frown at that. Loki shoved the bitterness aside and found a true smile for her. He was glad at least that she hadn't heard Sigyn's poisonous words.

 _Poison_ …

"Jane, don't touch that!" Suddenly Loki flung his hands out, green light spilling from his fingers to swirl over the platters of food as Jane's fork froze on its way to her mouth.

"Brother, what–" Thor began, but Loki shushed him. He needed to concentrate on this working. The Norns forbid he miss something and his new sister–or her baby–be harmed.

But moments later, he pulled his power back in with a frown. He'd found nothing. Now all at the table were looking at him strangely, Thor and Jane especially so. "Is aught amiss, brother?" Thor asked, his arm around Jane, hand protectively tight on her shoulder, and Loki knew they were likewise thinking of the child in her belly.

Just to be sure, Loki tested the food and wine again with his magic, and again found no taint to it. Finally, he shrugged. Apparently Eir had been correct and Selvig really had been afflicted by an allergy. "Just making sure the food is not oversalted, brother," Loki said, trying to dismiss his odd behavior with his usual sardonic smile. "I know how you hate that."

Thor held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. "I thank you for your thoughtfulness," he said, and by his tone, Loki knew he'd also made the connection between Selvig's illness and Loki's sudden interest in magically examining their food. "I take it all is seasoned appropriately?" he added, obviously wanting clear reassurance before he allowed Jane to eat.

Loki replied by popping a bright red cherry into his own mouth. "Perfectly," he said, and they all slowly relaxed as the feast carried on around them.

The final days of Thor's wedding feast passed much more quietly than the first two. Loki himself took over pouring the wine for the high table, causing Odin and Frigga to look at him with confusion, but he offered no explanation for taking over a servant's role and they didn't ask. Thor noticed that he still checked every dish and drop for poison before allowing any of them to partake of it. Yet despite finding nothing, Loki did not relax his guard.

By the final day, Taryn, who'd always loved rich foods and would never have believed she could get sick of such a luxurious variety of delicacies, began to long for plain bread and salads and water. She and Jane bonded over blistered heels and aching arches. Darcy and Fandral were often conspicuously absent at the same time, returning flushed and happy with ready excuses on their lips that fooled no one at all. Selvig regained some of his color and a bit of his appetite. Thor continued to urge him to eat, tempting him with dishes specially prepared with his delicate stomach in mind.

And after the feast finally closed, the last trencher of food devoured, the final dance done, and Selvig and Darcy safely returned to Puente Antigua, Loki and Thor met privately to discuss the matter of succession.  
"Will you do it, brother?" Thor asked bluntly as soon as the door to his chambers had closed behind the departing servant who'd brought them wine. "Will you rule at my side and bring Asgard into an age of brotherhood?"

Loki gazed deeply into his glass, absently spinning the stem between his long fingers. "You realize this will place a Jötunn on the throne of Asgard," he murmured, still hedging, still not willing to commit without being entirely sure that Thor knew what he was asking. "If it became known what I really am…"

"What you really are is my brother," Thor said, stalwart as ever in the face of Loki's hesitance. "I am not worried that word of your heritage will come out, but if it does, we will deal with it together. You would never harm this realm for the benefit of Jötunnheim, Loki–if nothing else, your actions on the day the Bifrost was broken proved that beyond any doubt." Loki winced at the reminder. "You are a prince of Asgard, a son of Odin. Nothing else matters."

"Would that all the Æsir believed as you do, Thor," Loki sighed. He put his wineglass down and finally met his brother's eyes. Truly, he had no desire to sit on Asgard's throne again, but for Thor… "Very well. I could never live with myself if I cost you the throne that was to be yours since birth. I will do as you wish, brother, and rule Asgard with you. I will advise you and do my utmost to protect the realm from all who would harm it."

Thor's grin lit the room with light. "Loki, you cannot know how happy that makes me!"

Loki returned the smile but held up his hands when Thor reached out to hug him. "Please, have mercy, brother. My ribs have only just healed from last time!"


	19. Two Halves of a Whole

**Just started watching the first season of The Walking Dead and DAMN, Y'ALL. Now I want to write a zombie apocalypse fic. I think Loki would be awesome to have around during the zombie acopalypse, even if he wasn't on my side. Of course I'd rather him be on my side, because he could turn the eeeeeeeevil undead into hamsters or Venus flytraps or something, but even if he wasn't, THEY EAT BRAINS, Y'ALL. With Loki and his delicious, delicious brains around, what zombie would ever even notice my puny mortal headmeat?**

.

The coronation plans got underway as soon as Thor's wedding feast was completed. According to Odin's timetable, they had just over three weeks to plan the event. But more importantly, within those three short weeks, the brothers had to be fully prepared to take over all the tasks that Odin had been singlehandedly performing for years. Thor and Loki were frequently busy until late in the night with a combination of the two, meeting with Odin and his counselors, being measured for new, formal armor, learning all the details of Asgard's alliances with the other realms, consulting with seers on what rituals should be enacted during the coronation… many nights Loki collapsed into bed beside Taryn just before dawn, too exhausted even to kiss her.

She never complained, though. On those nights she wordlessly held him tight or massaged his tense shoulders until the muscles felt more like flesh and less like stone. Truthfully, her embrace and her quiet acceptance were a balm to his overwhelmed mind. It seemed that the only respite from stress and worry that Loki tasted in those weeks was found in her arms.

For the more time Loki spent with Odin and Thor learning all the tasks of ruling that the princes had not been privy to before, the more he understood why the All-Father had wanted his younger son to share the crown. Thor was charismatic, and brave, and loyal, and the kind of man anyone would gladly follow into battle, but he had little grasp of the daily minutiae of running a kingdom.

Loki's intellect, however, was more than up to the task of deciding how to feed a kingdom, for example. He could easily keep track of the details of where to store their harvests, how much to trade and how much to hoard against future droughts or crop failures. He understood things like exchange rates, and treaties, and how much of Asgard's funds should be invested in education versus the military. His encyclopedic memory allowed him to easily recall details of all the different kingdoms in all the different Realms, who was allied, which were enemies, how all these things affected Asgard. These weren't the glorious tasks Loki had envisioned kept Odin so busy when he'd been a child, but they were every bit as important–possibly more important–than valiantly leading troops into battle against their enemies.

Thor clearly knew it, too. He relied heavily on Loki during their first official meeting with the ambassador from King Niord of Vanaheim. Odin hadn't been present at all during the conference–the brothers were on their own, a test of their solidarity and readiness to rule.

And they'd done wonderfully. Even Loki had to admit that. Thor's blinding charisma and Loki's shrewd negotiations had resulted in the peace treaty being renewed with the addition of a few new, favorable conditions for Asgard. As Taryn had said, the brothers were two halves of a highly formidable whole, and although part of Loki had never stopped believing that agreeing to this was a bad idea, even he had to admit that he and Thor were as unstoppable in this arena as they'd ever been on any field of battle.

The only thorn in the plans was Loki's steadfast refusal to be wed before the coronation. Odin had mentioned it but once, and when Loki had changed the subject with extreme politeness, he hadn't broached the topic again. But Frigga showed no such restraint. Any time she saw Loki, she spoke to him of all the reasons he and Taryn should marry before he was crowned–the pressure to wed a princess from another kingdom and secure a marriage peace-bond foremost among them–but he'd known the real reason. Odin wanted to see his master plan fully carried out, and Loki was already bowing enough to his wishes. It was not in him to bend further, not now.

So he merely nodded to Frigga, giving her that slight smile which revealed nothing, and continued to keep the news of his and Taryn's engagement close to the vest.

When the day of the coronation arrived, Loki watched the dawn breaking from his padded window seat. He hadn't been able to sleep at all and had finally left the bed so his restlessness would not rob Taryn of the few hours rest she'd managed to find. How different this felt than the last time, when he'd been handed Gugnir by Odin's highest-ranking privy counselor with only his mother to witness his ascension. Today all of Asgard would be there to watch him take the throne beside Thor.

Fully equal to his brother at last.

When the sun had fully peeked over the horizon, he heard Taryn's soft footsteps approaching his perch. Loki didn't look up when she wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. She didn't say, "Nervous?" or "You'll be fine" or any of the other cliches she might have reasonably offered. Indeed, they'd already talked for much of the night, the first deep, private conversation they'd managed in weeks. He still struggled to assimilate all Odin had said during their dance during Thor's wedding feast. If anything, the revelation that Odin had hoped to place him on the throne even then was even more unsettling to Loki.

Taryn didn't bother offering him comforting platitudes now. She just held him, and when Loki drew her onto his lap and wrapped himself around her as if trying to feel her with every inch of his body, she curled into his embrace and kissed him softly, her lips lingering. "I love you," she murmured against his mouth, and it was enough.

It was enough.

The ceremony passed in a blur for Loki. Just like that long-ago day when Loki had let in the Frost Giants to interrupt Thor's coronation, all of Asgard was assembled in the enormous Great Hall to witness the crowning of the two princes. However, unlike before, Thor clearly respected the solemnity of what was happening here. He was less ebullient now as he walked bare-headed beside Loki, holding Mjolnir solemnly at his side rather than tossing it in the air and pointing out his friends in the crowd with it. Back straight and proud, shoulders squared, Thor looked every inch the king he was soon to be. Loki consciously straightened his own spine.

Jane and Taryn walked a step behind the brothers, both resplendent in exquisite new dresses of red and green and encrusted with gems and precious metals. They carried the brothers' helmets, wings glimmering in platinum in Jane's hands, horns golden and sleek in Taryn's. During the planning, Loki had heard the murmured complaints that Taryn didn't deserve such an honor as she was not yet his wife but he had firmly ignored them. Odin had done the same, overruling the naysayers by the simple expedient of his silence. Taryn belonged at Loki's side, wife or not. Her silent support at his back was a sustaining presence he couldn't do without.

After traversing the endlessly long golden aisle to the throne, Thor and Loki both knelt before Odin. The rustle of cloth behind them indicated that Jane and Taryn had done the same. The All-Father rose from his magnificent throne and stepped forward, Gugnir in his hand. He struck the floor once with the butt of the spear, sending a rolling, sonorous _boom_ through the enormous space, and silence fell at once.

"Thor and Loki," the All-Father intoned, gazing down at them with his single, bright blue eye, "beloved sons of Odin, heirs to the throne of Asgard. You stand before your kingdom today to take charge of her, to vow your love for her, to pledge your lives to her. This undertaking must only be done with a willing heart, for to rule a Realm is to be ruled by her needs above your own."

Loki wished he could glance at Thor, to see if Odin's words struck him as powerfully as they struck Loki himself. He wished he could see Taryn, or feel her take his hand. Kneeling before the kingdom that had so hated him, he felt exposed, vulnerable.

Then Odin looked down at him and met his gaze, and Loki found he could not look away. In that single blue eye was all the love and approval he'd ever wished he could have seen from Odin. The All-Father looked at Loki as if nothing in all the realms could make him more proud than the adopted Jötunn runt now kneeling before him. In the instant before Odin transferred his gaze to Thor, Loki finally allowed himself to believe what Odin had told him so many months ago in the weapons vault.

He was not a tool. He was a beloved son, as much a part of Odin's family as Thor himself.

"Thor, Loki, sons of Odin," the All-Father said, and Loki realized that the pause had only been seconds but had felt so much longer. "Will you swear to care for the Nine Realms of Yggdrasil above all things?"

"I swear," Thor and Loki answered together, two voices blending seamlessly into one ringing vow.

"And do you swear to protect your people and preserve the peace we have worked so hard to build?"

"I swear," the brothers replied again.

"And do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambitions and pledge yourself only to the good of the realms?" Odin asked, his voice echoing powerfully through the silent hall.

"I swear!" Loki and Thor said again in perfect unison.

Odin looked down at them for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he smiled. Never had Loki seen such a joyous expression on his face, not even in their childhood. "My sons," he said, those two words carrying a wealth of love and pride. "Asgard will prosper under your rule. As long as you stand together, Yggdrasil will never fall."

Then he turned and, holding up his hands, murmured the words of a spell. Loki was surprised to see him do such a thing even though he'd long known that the All-Father commanded magic almost as strong as Frigga's. Odin just didn't use it, magic being the province of women. But now Odin cast his spell before all the kingdom without shame, and Loki knew part of his motivation was to try to remove some of the stigma that had always hung over Loki's own facility for magic.

Before Odin, the gold throne wavered and morphed, splitting into two identical chairs, side by side upon the dais–dual thrones, equal in every way. Then he turned back to his sons and bade them rise. "Come, Thor, Loki," he said as they rose from their kneeling position and ascended the stairs to join Odin. He stepped aside and gestured at the thrones. "United as brothers, united in rule, step forward and take your thrones."

When he and Thor were seated–and Loki wondered how the simple act of sitting could feel such an enormous burden–Odin again addressed them. "Thor, you bear the mighty Mjolnir," he said, and Thor held the hammer aloft to yet another cheer. "With this weapon, you have already struck many blows in defense of the Nine Realms. And you have done much to heal Asgard as well, rebuilding that which was broken with all your heart, as is proper for a king.

"But Loki, you have no such companion," he went on. Then to Loki's shock, Odin went to one knee before him and held out the golden spear Gugnir, the enchanted weapon Loki had gifted to him so long ago and at such great personal cost. "It is meet that Gugnir pass now to you, Loki Odinsson, the one who won it for Asgard. It is more than a weapon of destruction. The secrets of its power I leave for you to find. Take this, my son, and use it wisely."

Slowly, hesitatingly, Loki reached out and once more grasped the smooth golden handle of Gugnir. It tingled beneath his fingers in an unmistakable welcome as if recognizing a familiar and beloved friend–something it certainly had never done before. Another cheer filled the hall–still not the equal of Thor's, but Loki was too stunned to even care about that. He had never expected Odin to give him this, not with the damage he'd inflicted with it last time. In fact, Loki had fully expected Odin to take it with him to his final Odinsleep where it would pass eternity at its master's side.

Odin smiled at him as if understanding his surprise. "You will use it for good this time," he murmured, his voice not carrying further than the three of them now.

Then he turned and nodded to Jane and Taryn. The two rose as one and mounted the steps. In that moment, all Loki could see was the love and pride in Taryn's warm gaze as she raised the golden helm high. Then, with the utmost care, she placed it upon his head. "My love–my King," she whispered, voice tremulous with emotion, and Loki had to swallow hard against the answering surge of love in his heart.

"My lady," he replied softly, putting into those two words all the emotion which could never be fully spoken.

Jane did likewise for Thor, crowning him with murmured words Loki could not hear and did not try–it was for his brother's ears alone, this private moment before a million or more Æsir.

As Jane and Taryn stepped back, the hall erupted in cheers. Loki finally could take it no longer and glanced at Thor, only to find his brother looking back at him with proud tears in his crystal blue eyes. He tried to smile at his brother but couldn't manage it. His chest was too tight, choking him.

When the women stood aside again, one step below the thrones, Odin raised his arms. Thor and Loki rose to their feet at the gesture, one to each side of the All-Father. "Asgard, I have loved thee well, and served thee with all my heart and strength," Odin cried like a man embracing a lover for the last time. "And now I leave thee in the best of hands as I go to my final slumber.

"Hail, King Thor! Hail, King Loki! _Long live the Kings of Asgard!"_ Odin All-Father shouted, and the cry was taken up by the Æsir through their tears.

Thor raised Mjolnir with one hand and clasped Jane's hand in the other. Loki mimicked him, lacing his fingers through Taryn's, lifting Gugnir high. In this moment, he could truly believe that the adoration of the crowd was for him as well as Thor. That Asgard had finally welcomed him home, fully and completely. He looked down at Taryn and saw tears streaming down her cheeks as she smiled at him with such love and pride, it made his heart stutter.

"Long live the Kings," she said, her voice utterly clear to him despite the raging cheers, and Loki finally identified what he was feeling.

_Belonging_.

And in that moment, Loki knew that the vows he'd spoken would bind him forever. He would kill or die for these people at his side, for this feeling. Asgard was his.

He belonged.


	20. Flattery and Wisdom

If Loki and Thor had thought the manic pace of the last few weeks would settle now that rule had passed to them, they were sorely mistaken.

The Receiving took all their attention.

Every one of the kingdoms in all of the Realms allied with Asgard sent emissaries to greet the new kings. There were gifts to be given to Asgard, and of course those gifts should be reciprocated–and done so in a way that utterly failed to so much as imply that such reciprocation was expected. And every ambassador had to be given all the respect and honor given to every other, lest jealousy break out between them. Thor was all charm and brilliant charisma while Loki juggled demands and compliments. Truly, he felt like a father with a thousand spoiled and whining children, all demanding equal shares of his attention–an impossible task that left little time for anything but appeasing them.

And then it got worse.

Three days into the Receiving, the Norns suddenly graced Asgard with a visit. This was something they not done since long before Thor or Loki were born. The powerful beings, deceptively guised as three women–the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone–strode into the Great Hall one day without announcement or warning. The ambassador from some small kingdom on Aflheimr–by this point even Loki could hardly remember which one–started to protest the interruption but went white when he saw the three striding forward.

"Please excuse us," Loki murmured as the man bowed, already backing away. "We shall of course reschedule a time to address your most important concerns."

"Of course, your Majesties," he said, nearly tripping in his haste to get away from the Norns.

Loki couldn't blame him for the urge. These beings knew the past, present and future of every being in all the worlds. They controlled Fate. It was best to be far from their personal attention.

But that luxury wasn't available to Thor and Loki. The brothers stood as the three stopped before the thrones. In a gesture they would make to no others, the newly crowned kings descended the steps and knelt before the Norns with heads bowed.

"You grace us with your presence, Wise Ones," Loki murmured, knowing that Thor was smart enough to leave this to him and fully feeling the pressure of it. The Norns were ancient, and powerful, and very, very quick to anger. One did not question them without being prepared to sacrifice dearly for the answer–Odin's missing eye was but one proof of that. He chose his words with exquisite care. "We did not dare hope we would be so honored, but truly, I cannot fathom what we could offer those so much more powerful than we."

The eldest, Urda, cackled. "And so sweetly the Silvertongue requests our purpose in coming while asking nothing," she replied.

"T'was well spoken of him," agreed the middle-aged one, Skulda, her own eyes sparkling in every color of the rainbow.

The young one's lips curved in a sultry smile. "Flattery will gain you little, Wordsmith, but we like the sound of it," said Verdandi.

Loki smiled with the charm that had always worked on every female before, but without much hope it would do the same now. He'd been told that the Norns spoke as one, but having never encountered them before, it was a bit off-putting. But he hid his disquiet with the ease of long practice. "If the purpose of your visit is to dazzle us with womanly beauty in all its forms, please consider it done," he murmured.

"Beauty in all its forms?" replied the Maiden, raising an eyebrow.

"Two of which are easy for men to find," continued the Crone.

"And one eludes all but the wise," finished the Mother.

"King of Asgard, are you wise?" they said together, three voices snapping like a whip of command.

Thor was tense as a bowstring at his side and Loki fully felt that same tension. A drop of sweat trickled between his shoulder blades. This was not a question to answer wrongly.

Loki looked for a moment upon the Maiden, seeing the tightness of her hips and high breasts, the erotic drape of her gown, the knowing allure of her multihued eyes. He bowed his head to her. "Sweet Maiden Verdandi, at the height of your youth and beauty, all men are drawn to you. You are the promise of a woman's pleasure and charm.

"And lovely Mother Skulda, she who creates the next generation," he went on, now bowing to her, taking in the curves that were now fuller, the slight roundness of her abdomen, "the softness of your body hides the strength known only to those who have brought forth new life. You are the power of woman, she who will fight to protect her child.

"Finally, Urda, she who is known as the Crone," Loki said, again bowing. Her wrinkled, toothless smile was nearly feral, but her rainbow gaze told him he had not yet failed their test. "Of your wisdom gained through a lifetime of both joy and pain, many have spoken. But in your bright eyes remain all the allure and strength of both Maiden and Mother. Truly, you are the embodiment of all that is womanhood."

They all laughed now. "Ahh, son of two fathers, we forsee you learning more of this anon," said Skulda, applauding his speech, and though he sensed the most immediate danger had passed, Loki didn't dare to relax.

Verdandi nodded, smiling in a most unsettling way. "Truly, the Queen of the Æsir shall surprise all."

"Yet only one Æsir King speaks," Urda said, her tone now sharp once more. "Are we beneath your notice, Thor Odinsson?"

Loki's heart throbbed in his throat. Please, brother, for once speak wisely, he thought, but he didn't dare to touch Thor's mind and suggest what he should say. The Norns would surely sense the use of magic. Without knowing what would offend, Loki could do little to help Thor.

Thor inclined his head regally. "In such august company, I find my tongue slow and my thoughts overwhelmed," he replied with uncharacteristic tact. "My silence is meant as no offense, Wise Ones."

Loki let out his breath in a silent sigh of relief. There was little in that which could possibly be construed as an insult, and Thor hadn't asked for forgiveness. Apparently he, too, had remembered Odin's missing eye and knew better than to ask for anything.

"We come to remind the son of two fathers of the life he himself brought forth," Urda said abruptly, and Loki looked up sharply.

All three stared at him, but neither of the other two said a word.

Silence stretched long and Loki said nothing, hoping Thor would do the same. His knees began to ache from so long on the marble floor but he did not dare so much as shift position. Anything could be taken as an insult, or a sign that his patience was lapsing. And it was lapsing, but he knew far better than to show it. Despite how much he burned to know what exactly they meant by that one statement, Loki remained still and silent. Only one had spoken. They were not finished until all three had done so.

He could only imagine the punishment for interrupting would be worse than that for asking a question.

Loki's patience had long since expired by the time Skulda clapped again, this time applauding his control. "And now you have become worthy to hear our warning," she said.

"Remember your acts of creation," Verdandi told him. She stepped forward, every movement sexual, enticing, and dragged a fingertip down his cheek. "For you are not the only one who does, son of two fathers."

"What was your aim?" Skulda asked.

"And did you truly fail?" Urda finished, one silver eyebrow raised.

Thor started to speak, then caught himself in time. Loki was unutterably glad of that. "We thank you for your words," he said, inclining his head again and seeing Thor do the same out of the corner of his eye.

Verdandi's touch moved to trace his lips. "Will you barter to know more?" she purred.

"Perhaps you will wager that clever tongue," Urda suggested.

"Or the bright ice of magic in your heart," Skulda said.

Urda laughed. "Or perhaps you would give nothing, and have us seek it from the mortal whose fate you would buy for your own."

They circled him now, a pack of wolves scenting his fear. "Your immortal mortal," Verdandi mocked, "bound to you with a thread you think we could not break."

"What would you sell to know her fate?" Skulda challenged.

They stopped before him and looked hungrily at him now. Loki forced a smile when he felt like shrinking away from them. This was an outcome he had not foreseen, that by giving Taryn that necklace, he would offend the Norns. "I would be ungrateful to ask for more than you've freely given, Wise Ones," he replied carefully. The Three sneered at him as one.

Now they turned their penetrating gazes on Thor. "And you, Thunderer," Urda said, reaching out and lifting Thor's chin as their attention finally fell away from Loki. "Have you questions?"

"What would you give to know the fate of the child in Jane Foster's belly?" Skulda asked.

"For we know it," Verdandi said, every word a temptation. "It is yours for the asking… if you wish to pay our price."

Never as adept as hiding his emotions as Loki, Thor's breath came fast beside his brother. Loki saw the fear and desperate curiosity in his face. Throwing caution to the winds, he reached out and touched his brother's mind. Do not ask! he thought firmly. Brother, the price could very well be the life of the child. Be silent!

All three Norns immediately turned to look at Loki. His heart sank. But then they smiled as one. "Ahh, how love warms our hearts," said lovely Verdandi, clasping her hands to her own bosom. "Value this, Thunderer, for he risks much for you."

"But the cost of love is always high," said Skulda. Her eyes glinted with pleasure at the brothers' discomfort. "The price of yours, son of two fathers, will not be set by us."

"And it may be more than he is willing to pay, in the end." Urda leaned forward and pressed her wrinkled lips to Loki's, a gentle kiss that burned like fire. "Think well on our words, Shape-shifter."

"Be wise, Kings of the Æsir," they said together, and vanished.

As soon as they were gone, Thor literally fell forward, boneless on the floor. Loki collapsed beside him–there were no guards here, no one to see the Kings of Asgard showing such weakness. And if an unannounced visit from the Norns, complete with vague warnings and laced with terror, wasn't enough to bring two gods down, nothing was. "What. The. Fuck," Loki groaned, "was that all about?"

"You're the clever one, brother," Thor replied. His voice was gravelly with suppressed emotion. "You tell me."

They looked at each other from the floor. For a long moment, they just stared, silent. Then Loki finally spoke again. "I don't know about you," he said, beginning to struggle to his feet–his legs had long since fallen asleep– "but I feel a pressing desire to visit Taryn and Jane." The two spent their days with Frigga now, consoling her after the loss of Odin and learning what it meant to be Queen of Asgard.

Thor was on his feet in a second, dragging Loki the rest of the way up an instant after that. "You can take us there faster," he demanded. "Do it."

Thor had never requested to travel by magic with Loki before. But this time, Loki didn't protest being ordered by his brother. He merely nodded, reached for his magic, and embraced the shadows–there were no mirrors here, and he was too shaken to trust his way between dimensions right now. Thor stiffened as darkness leapt to do Loki's bidding but he didn't pull away when the shadows swarmed over them, enveloping the pair in unnatural night.

Then Loki turned, felt the brightness of the Oroborous necklace, and took Thor with him as he pulled them through Chaos to it in a single step.

As soon as he released Thor's arm, the Thunder God collapsed to the ground, retching. Loki immediately fell to his knees and grasped his brother's shoulders. "Thor!"

Thor managed not to vomit, but it was close. The horror of that passage through shadows was something he'd never imagined. As often as Loki did it, he had never, ever thought it could be so terrible. Thor was dimly aware that the journey had taken only an instant, but that instant had stretched to something like a thousand years. Things had pulled at him, dragging not at his hair or his clothing, but deep inside where no claws should be able to touch. He was very, very afraid that what they sought was not his body, but his soul.

"Oh my god, Thor! Loki, what happened? Thor, what's wrong?"

Jane's terrified voice vaguely penetrated through the mists of fear and horror. Thor tried to answer her but his voice wasn't working right. He tried to open his eyes but couldn't stop them rolling back in his head. "He's in shock," he heard Loki say, and the world spun as he was lifted up and carried to something soft.

… and since when had Loki been able to pick him up, especially when he was carrying Mjolnir?

"Brother, when did you get so strong?" Thor muttered, forcing his eyes to stop their rolling to find his brother leaning over him, staring down with worry in his green gaze.

"Frost Giant, did you forget?" Loki replied with forced lightness. "What happened? Was it the Norns?"

Someone gasped–Taryn, he thought, she would know what the Norns were–but Thor shuddered and shook his head. "You are never to go through the shadows again, alone or with another," he growled, grasping Loki's arms hard. "Do you hear me, brother? Never again!"

Loki frowned, clearly taken aback. "Are you saying that I did this to you?"

"Not you," Thor said, seeing the hurt in his brother's eyes. He never wanted Loki to think he would accuse him of trying to harm him. "The… whatever is there in the shadows. It is evil, Loki. Do not go there again!"

The frown deepened as Loki's confusion grew. "Thor, there is nothing in the shadows that is not in the light," he said, repeating what Frigga had told them millennia ago when they'd still shared a nursery, a bed, and a fear of the dark.

"There is," Thor insisted. He shivered again, fighting down his nausea. "Oh, brother, there is."

Suddenly Loki's attention was shifted by the simple expedient of Jane grabbing his helmet's horns and yanking him around to face her. "Okay, I need to know what's going on here," she demanded. "You both drop out of nothing and Thor collapses and now there's demons in the shadows and what are Norns?"

"They're what you would probably call the Fates," Loki replied as he gently disengaged her hands from his helmet before taking it off and casting it aside. "And they just came to visit us."

Thor watched as Loki finally met Taryn's gaze. She was literally wringing her hands with worry. His brother reached out and pulled her to him, enfolding her in his arms. "What did they say?" she whispered.

But he didn't answer right away. Instead, he just closed his eyes and held her. Thor wondered if Loki was thinking the same thing he was, agonizing over what that price the Norns had referred to could be. They only took prizes worth having. Things of value, like Odin's eye. What did Loki value more than this woman in his arms?

Nothing.

Jane poked Loki in the side, hard, and he sighed as he looked down at her. She stood over Thor like a Valkyrie determined to protect him. "Brother, your wife is pushy."

"That she is," Thor agreed. He shoved himself into a sitting position and pulled her into his embrace, holding her just as Loki held his Taryn. He rested a hand over her still-flat stomach. He would have given much to know this child's fate. Did he dare tell Jane they'd offered such a thing?

Loki finally spoke again, telling the women all that had transpired in the throne room. Jane clearly didn't understand everything, but she was quiet and still in Thor's arms. Once he was done, Taryn asked, "Did they mean Sleipnir and the others?"

Sleipnir had not been Loki's only child of magic. After his success with the magnificent stallion, he had attempted the same thing again, creating another beast-child. Fenrir was the epitome of all that was Wolf, an enormous creature which had far exceeded his expectations. As with Sleipnir, Loki had sought the most powerful of wolves to guide his creation, and none were more perfect than Odin's companions, Geri and Freki. Unfortunately Fenrir had been infected with such wildness that he had been too much even for Loki to control, and Fenrir had gone so far as to consume Tyr's hand before the combined Æsir had managed to chain him upon the isle of Lyngvi.

Jormungand had been his third attempt. The snake had rapidly grown to epic proportions, truly earning the name World Serpent. And then he had also escaped Loki's control. A seer had foretold that the snake would devour Thor at Ragnarok and the All-Father had cast it into the deepest sea in all the Realms.

Loki had not tried again to create a new creature. Instead he had turned his hand to fashioning an Æsir, attempting to make in his own image what he now knew he never could have because he was no Æsir… but Hel was a regret for another time.

Loki nodded and explained as best he could for Jane's benefit. "But at the time, I didn't realize that the wildness of the creatures would prove so uncontrollable," he said when he was finished. "Jormungand and Fenrir had to be… subdued. Sleipnir, for all his magic, was based on a domesticated animal, the horse. It took two failures for me to realize such an obvious thing."

"And Angrboda?" Taryn asked. For Jane, she added, "Our myths tell that she's their mother."

Loki groaned at that and Thor laughed. Truly, he should have made time to read more of the mythology Taryn studied when he'd been on Midgard, for what he'd learned about it from Taryn had been hilarious. "Angrboda was the most hideous creature you can imagine, half Wind Giant, half dark dwarf," he explained when Loki didn't seem like he had any desire to do so himself. "And she loved Loki beyond reason. His refusal to wed her sent her into madness."

"And what does any of that have to do with anything?" Jane asked, drawing them back from this digression. She faced Loki with hands on hips. "They said you're supposed to think about your acts of creation. Okay, so think about it. How did you do it?"

Loki had already been considering that. "It was a thousand years ago that I spun them out of magic," he said, holding up a hand in a helpless gesture. "More than that, actually. And I never had full control of the process. Do you think I remember every single step, every incantation I spoke?"

"You had best try, brother," Thor said quietly. "Because the Norns do nothing without purpose. You are the only one who can solve this puzzle, and we do not know what is riding on the answer."

"I know," Loki said, and although he answered Thor, his gaze was locked on the woman he held. "I know."


	21. In His Image

The final visitor at the Receiving was Hel herself.

Jane and Taryn had joined the brothers that day in their first official appearance. Jane wore a golden tiara reminiscent of Thor's formal helm, with golden wings spread to either side of her face. But Taryn had not donned the horned tiara made for her. Loki knew she was right in her refusal–not yet his wife, not yet Asgard's queen–but he didn't like it.

When Hel entered, Loki got to his feet immediately and descended the steps to greet her. He'd known an emissary from the realm that bore her name would come, but he hadn't expected she would come herself. "Daughter," he said, smiling and holding out his arms to his final creation.

And she was a hideous thing, a beautiful Æsir woman whose form had been twisted and ruined. Loki hadn't done it on purpose–anything but that–but at the time, he hadn't known of his own Jötunn heritage. He had intended to give her a purely Æsir appearance but hadn't realized that making her in his image meant trying to recreate Odin's camouflaging spell over a Frost Giant form.

She'd emerged into the world as a monster.

Her skin, twisted and rough, was a mottled combination of deathly pale and corpse blue. One half of her head boasted flowing, gorgeous raven hair, the single spot of beauty granted her, but the other side of her scalp was ridged and horned. Her body was in places as muscular as a giant's, in others as delicate as an Æsir maiden's, and everywhere as thin as a wraith. Like her father, she commanded formidable magic, but that, too, was warped and unreliable. Blood red eyes glared at the world which had scorned her since the moment of her birth.

Indeed, Odin had cast her into the nether realm because of her looks alone, and Loki, half-dead himself from the sheer amount of magic he'd used in his workings, devastated at what he had unwittingly created, had been too weak to stop it. Desperate for any kind of happy ending for the wretched thing he'd created, Loki had tried with all his heart to believe Odin's assurances that the dead would not scorn her for her appearance, that she would be happy there as their ruler.

Only later, when it was too late to mend what had been broken between them, had Loki regretted not fighting harder to prevent her exile. So many times he had gone to her, tried to help her, to undo his mistakes, to see past her ruined flesh and into her heart. And in her heart was a bitterness that put his own to shame.

A bitterness for which he could not blame her.

Hel smiled coolly but allowed his embrace. It was a small victory Loki savored since she so rarely did so. "You have done well for yourself, Loki." She had always refused to call him Father, something that shouldn't have stung as much as it did. She glanced up at the throne and inclined her head to the three sitting there–new, smaller thrones had been added for Jane and Taryn. "The Realm of Hel congratulates the Kings of Asgard on their ascension."

"Thank you, Hel," Loki replied graciously. He turned, held his hand out to Taryn, and breathed a sigh of relief when she descended without hesitation to stand beside him. He should have warned her further about his children, should have described Hel to her to prepare her for his daughter's ruined appearance, but it had been too difficult to speak of. He thanked the Norns that Taryn had spent so long studying Norse mythology. While the first sight of Hel was enough to shock anyone, at least Taryn hadn't been completely unprepared.

When Taryn stopped at his side, Loki put his arm around her waist and turned back to Hel. "Daughter, this is Taryn Roswell, soon to be my wife and Queen of the Æsir," he introduced. "Taryn, may I present Hel Lokadottir, Queen of Hel, in the Realm of Niflheim."

Taryn smiled at Hel and clasped both her hands. "I am so happy to meet you," she said, and it sounded like she truly meant it.

"Next-mother," Hel replied. Malicious thing that she could be, Hel leaned forward to hug Taryn tight. She even pressed a kiss to her cheek, all but daring her to flinch or pull away from the cold, dead feel of her hard flesh on Taryn's. Taryn did neither, in fact returned the embrace, and Loki was momentarily struck mute with pride for her. But then Hel shoved her roughly away and Loki caught her as she stumbled. "Spend a little more time with the Lie-smith before you try that on me again," she snarled.

"Hel," Loki growled, a warning. He would not stand for Taryn to be treated that way, not even from his own child.

"Loki," she growled back, and then gave him her sweetest smile. It was a hideous expression.

Dismissing them both, Hel lifted her head high and spoke, and while she nominally addressed both kings, her gaze was only on Thor. "Kings of the Æsir, the Realm of Hel will continue to receive your dishonored dead. In return, you will continue to send the monthly tributes of food and wine. The dead wish to be left alone and want nothing more from you than this. Do you agree?"

Loki wanted to reply, to say something to comfort her, but there was nothing he had not already said to her, no spell to mend her mangled form he had not tried. Instead Loki silently looked up at Thor, who replied. "We agree to your terms, Queen Hel, and thank you."

"I bring no gift," Hel went on coldly, "nor do I wish any from you. Until I see you in my realm, goodbye."

That, now, was an insult. No warrior ever wished to find himself in Hel's realm, where went those who had died as cowards, as weaklings, leaving life without glory or honor. Loki sighed silently as his daughter turned and strode out of the hall. "Goodbye, daughter," he murmured, wishing for the millionth time that things could have been different.

It was good that Hel's visit was the last of the Receiving, because seeing his daughter always put Loki in a foul mood afterward, sometimes for days. This time, however, he wasn't allowed to sequester himself alone as he usually did. Taryn refused to leave him. She didn't press him to talk, but even the mere presence of another right now rasped like sandpaper on his raw nerves. He buried himself in his personal library, pulling out ancient journals covered in the crabbed, scrawling handwriting he used only for his magical notes-this had always worked on Thor, who would soon get bored and leave. Not so with Taryn. She merely sat quietly alongside him, reading a book of her own, saying nothing, and calmly ignoring his silent hints for her to leave him alone.

Finally Loki slammed shut the book he'd been trying to decipher and threw it down. "Say it," he growled, not looking at her.

Taryn closed her own book much more gently. "Say what?"

"She is hideous, a monster. She is full of hatred. And I should have killed her at birth." Loki finally met her eyes. "It is nothing I have not heard before."

Taryn set her book aside and held his angry gaze. "She's a hideous monster, full of hatred, and you should have killed her at birth," she said mildly. "Feel better?"

Loki surged to his feet and paced away from her. "Don't mock me about this."

"I'm not."

He heard her approach behind him and stepped away again. She followed, he moved, she followed again, and finally he spun around. "Taryn, stop this! Can't you leave me be?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and just looked at him. "When you're hurting this much? No."

Loki sighed and slumped against the bookshelf. Taryn didn't say anything else, but she didn't leave him, either. He rubbed his hands over his face. "You have just witnessed my greatest failure," he finally said, face still covered. "Don't you have anything to say to that?"

"No."

Angry now, he shoved away from the bookshelf and stalked over to her. "Must you treat this as a game?" he demanded.

Taryn sighed and reached up to cup his face in her hands. "Did you do that to her on purpose, Loki?" she asked gently.

He tore out of her grip. "Of _course_ not!" he gritted out.

"And did you try to fix it?"

He slammed a hand into the stone wall. A bone broke, stung as it mended, and he savored that pain as it momentarily displaced the far worse one nothing could ever touch. "A thousand times."

"Then why should I beat you up over it?" He heard her approach again, but this time she didn't touch him. "You seem to want me to," she added, and she sounded puzzled.

 _Want_ her to? No, he merely _expected_ her to. After all, everyone else had. "I finally know what went wrong," he finally said, and this time his voice was toneless, drained of his anger and self-loathing. "And there is no way to repair it. My mistakes are written into her very cells. I made her in my image, not knowing that my image is a lie."

"Have you told her that? Have you shown her your real form?"

He snorted a little laugh even though there was no humor in it. "Do you really think it would make a difference?" he asked bitterly, staring at the blood on his knuckles, the abrasions already fading. "Sorry I made you a monster, look, I'm one too?"

Taryn sighed again at his sarcastic reply. "It might," she said. When he didn't answer, just looked at her as if she were mad, her lips tightened. She caught his arm before he could flinch away from her again. "Come on."

Loki resisted her pull for a moment, but when she didn't relent, he finally let her drag him out of his library. "Where are you taking me?" he asked, but she didn't answer as she led him through the palace. "Taryn?"

Finally she pushed open a door and they emerged onto the practice fields. Sif and the Warriors Three were in their usual clearing, their shouts and the ring of steel on steel filling the bright air as they sparred.

"Taryn?" Loki murmured again as she dragged him over to them. He wasn't sure what she was planning, but if she intended to discuss Hel with them, he would have to put a stop to it.

"Lady Taryn!" Fandral said, catching sight of them and smiling with seemingly genuine delight. "And King Loki!" He clapped a fist to his chest and bowed to his king, a gesture repeated by the others. "To what do we owe this honor?"

Taryn none-too-gently pushed Loki into the ring. "Someone beat the crap out of him," she ordered flatly. "He seems to be in the mood for it." And then she turned around and walked back up to the castle without a backward glance.

A long moment of stunned silence followed her departure. Then Sif raised her glaive in a warrior's salute. "Always ready and willing to beat the crap out of you, my King," she said, and Loki actually found his lips curving in the ghost of a smile as Fandral tossed him a staff from the weapons rack, then drew his own sword.

"Any particular reason your lady wants you bloodied?" Volstagg asked, swinging his axe lightly.

Loki rubbed a thumb over his lips, thinking back to his behavior in the library. "I might deserve it," he conceded.

"Let's not disappoint her, then," Hogun said, and the battle was on.


	22. A Message From Heimdall

Taryn was sitting by the fire, reading again, when Loki returned from the practice fields. Much as his body ached–it had been too long since he'd sparred, and Sif in particular was merciless–Loki had to admit that he did indeed feel better after the long fight. "My lady," he murmured, closing the door behind him.

She didn't look up. "Done sulking?"

He smiled a little as he walked over. "Yes. Sorry," he added.

"I always pegged Thor for the one who'd need to break things to deal with his emotions," she mused, turning a page. "I thought the Wordsmith would, perhaps, use words. Silly, I know."

Loki sat down in the chair across from hers. "I will talk to you now, if you wish it," he offered, realizing how much he'd hurt her with his refusal to speak to her earlier.

Taryn finally closed the book and met his gaze. "What do you want, Loki? I'm here for you, but I feel pretty useless right about now."

"Useless?" He echoed the word, taken aback.

"Yeah, useless." She set the book in her lap and leaned forward. "I need to do more than warm your bed and look pretty on your arm. If I can't even support you when you clearly need it, what's the point of me being here?"

Loki stared at her, utterly stunned. He'd known he had some ground to make up after his unreasonable behavior in the library, had anticipated needing to apologize and perhaps even grovel a bit, but this sounded like more. This sounded like… like something that had been festering under the surface for a while. And it frightened him that he hadn't sensed her dissatisfaction before this moment.

She clearly saw his shocked realization and sat back with a sigh. Her tone softened a little when she spoke again. "Look, I know you and Thor just got crowned. You're busy, you've got a lot to think about, a kingdom to rule, ambassadors to juggle. I get that. Today I got to sit beside you and finally see some of what you've been doing, and I loved that you included me. But then afterwards… I was useless again."

"Taryn," Loki murmured, knowing he'd missed something huge over the last few weeks, "I'm sorry, love. I never meant to ignore you."

She made a frustrated sound. "It's not _about_ that," she said, fingers clenched tight on the book. "Loki, you're a king now. Being busy goes with the territory and I'm not angry about that, really I'm not. I just need to be busy, too. And Jane feels the same way. On Earth, we had jobs, things that kept us occupied, that _mattered_. Here, we're accessories."

She turned her gaze to the fire. "I just wanted to help you today," she said softly, "but I couldn't give you what you needed. And if I can't even do such a simple thing for you, why am I here, Loki?"

Loki slid out of the chair, went to his knees at her feet. "You're here because I do need you," he said, taking her hands and holding tight. Fear clenched his heart. "And I will not shut you out again. Taryn, I cannot do this without you. Don't leave."

Taryn sighed, but there was an exasperated smile on her lips when she looked down at him. "I asked for something to do. I never said I was leaving," she murmured, rolling her eyes. "Why do men always jump to that conclusion?"

"Because the prospect of it is terrifying," Loki replied. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, pressed his forehead to hers. "You are here to be a queen, my lady, and I have not let you do so. But I will from now on. I vow it."

"But I'm not a queen," she whispered.

"Then plan our wedding," Loki said, knowing that part of her restlessness came from this. Much as she said she didn't mind, it had to be difficult for her to live in such limbo. Suddenly his reasons for waiting to announce their engagement–Odin's decree, the need to concentrate fully on the Receiving, the intricacies of court etiquette–seemed petty and unimportant. "I will announce the date as soon as you choose it. I will move mountains to make Asgard ready for it. Thor's celebration will seem puny in comparison."

Taryn pulled back a little and stared down at him. "Wow," she finally breathed. "You mean that?"

"With all my heart."

She smiled, then bit her lip. "On one condition," she said, going serious again.

"Anything that is within in my power to give is yours, my lady," Loki said immediately. "You know that."

"Talk to Hel. Show her your Jötunn form. Tell her what happened and why it went wrong."

He hadn't expected that. Loki stiffened and drew away from her a little, stung by the unexpected pain of the suggestion. "It won't help."

Taryn leaned down and caught his shoulders. "You don't know that. She's your daughter, Loki. You can't give up."

In truth, he already had. But he looked at Taryn and sighed in defeat. He had given his word and would always be true to that, but baring his true form to Hel wasn't something he was looking forward to doing. "If that is the price of marrying you, I will pay it," he said quietly.

But that made him think of the Norns again, the price they'd hinted he would pay for the love he bore his brother, and worry descended over him again. When she frowned, he caught himself and explained his withdrawal. "I should continue researching the spells I used to create my children," he said, sitting back on his heels and rubbing his forehead. "I am still concerned that we don't understand all the Norns meant during their visit."

Taryn nodded in understanding. "Is there anything I can do to assist you?"

He got to his feet and drew her up into his arms, shaking his head. "You wouldn't be able to read my notes," he said to soften his refusal. "They're not in a language you would know. By the way, have I thanked you for helping Mother?"

She smiled, a little puzzled. "Actually, I think she's been helping us."

"You've taken her mind off Odin's passing," Loki corrected her. "The time you and Jane spend with her has been the only brightness in her days since he went to his final rest. She told me," he said when she seemed taken aback by the comment. "She says that the two of you will make remarkable queens. Even the Norns said so," he added. "They said the Queens of the Æsir would surprise all."

But as the words left his lips, Loki frowned. "No, they didn't," he corrected himself. "They didn't say _queens_."

He looked down at her, mind once again spinning with too many possibilities. The Norns had spoken of but one queen, and Jane was the only one yet crowned. _The one whose fate you would buy for your own, the immortal mortal, bound to you by a thread you think we cannot break…_ His heart stuttered in his chest and he suddenly touched the Oroborous necklace, needed to feel again that it was whole, strong, unbroken, still protecting her.

"Loki?" Taryn murmured, stroking his back. "You just went quiet on me again. What is it?"

The enchantments remained just as he'd created them. Loki let out a breath and rested his forehead against hers once more. "Tell no one what this does," he said, trying to hide his sudden fear in the softness of his voice. "Let them all think it merely a pretty trinket."

"Thor and Jane already know," Taryn said, frowning.

"I'm not worried about them," Loki replied. "But tell no one else. The Norns…" He couldn't finish the sentence, didn't want her to worry as he was.

She pulled back a little and searched his gaze. "They've really unsettled you."

"They came unasked for, gave information without bartering, left without a prize. It's enough to unsettle anyone." He fingered her necklace again, felt a surge of satisfaction when the snake's green eyes flared to welcome his touch. "In any realm, in any time, there are those who are jealous of power and the ones who wield it. Sitting on a throne is dangerous. There is no harm in having a secret weapon," he explained, giving her as much as he could.

Because the Norns were right. If the price of Asgard's throne was losing Taryn, it was one he would never pay.

…

When they all came together for breakfast the next morning–something Jane had insisted upon during the brothers' intensive tutelage with Odin, as it had become the only time she and Taryn could count on seeing them–Loki knew with a single look that Thor had gotten some version of the same conversation he and Taryn had shared last night.

"Brother," Loki greeted him, clasping his arm briefly as the women greeted Frigga with hugs.

"Brother," Thor returned, and leaned closer. "These women are fearsome when they plot together," he murmured for Loki alone. "Did your Taryn also–"

"Aye, she did," Loki interrupted, smiling ruefully. "And what job will you be giving Jane?"

Thor laughed. "The job of queen, which she rightfully pointed out is already hers, as well as bringing some of her scientific devices from Midgard so she may continue her work here," he said. "And your lady?"

Loki's smile grew a little. "That of wedding planner," he said, and braced himself for Thor's enormous hug… not that it helped. He could have sworn he heard his very bones creak when Thor lifted him entirely off the floor in his joyful enthusiasm. Loki knew his ribs would ache for the rest of the day. "Come, let me down, the food grows cold," he gasped, disengaging himself from his brother's painful embrace with a groan.

His brother's grin could have lit all of Asgard during the blackest night. "Jane and I were beginning to wonder if you'd changed your mind. When's the day?" Thor asked, slapping him on the back with enough force to drive out what little breath remained in Loki's lungs.

Loki slid into a chair beside Taryn with relief. He loved Thor, truly he did, but the enormous man gave new meaning to the phrase _love hurts_. "When I find that out myself, I will happily tell you," he replied a bit breathlessly. Then he smiled at Frigga, seated at the head of the table–another agreement between the four of them, giving her the place of honor they all felt she deserved. "Good morning, Mother. You look especially lovely today."

She waved a hand at him as if shooing a fly. "Save your flattery for your lady," she said, but her eyes were bright and a real smile was upon her face. "I'm certain I heard the word _wedding_ in there somewhere. Was I mistaken?"

Taryn shook her head as Loki smiled and draped an arm around his lady. "I've finally been persuaded to make an honest man of your son," Taryn said, glancing up at him fondly.

"Good luck with that," Frigga laughed, but her smile now lit the room with joy.

"I represent that remark," Loki shot back as if offended, and savored the laughter. In truth, apart from the time spent in his bed making love to Taryn, these breakfasts were his favorite part of the day. He and Thor had firmly set this single hour aside, instructing guards and councillors alike that they were only to be interrupted for the direst of emergencies.

So when the doors burst open and Sif ran in and dropped to kneel before them, fist over her heart, Loki and Thor both stood at once. "My Kings," she said, breathless, "I bring a message from Heimdall. The Æsir outpost upon Svartalfheim has come under attack by the Dvergar. They are sore pressed and will soon be overrun. They request reinforcements at once!"

"Why are the Dvergar attacking now? They must know we have just renewed all our treaties. Asgard remains as strong as ever," Thor said, frowning and looking to Loki for an explanation.

It was no mystery at all to him, because it was exactly the kind of thing Loki would've done had he wanted to unsettle his brother's subjects. "Because we are new to the throne, brother, and a battle lost so early in our reign will make us appear weak. If this is not crushed at once, we invite more attacks, treaties or no," Loki replied grimly. "Once the sharks scent blood in the water, they will all swarm in for the feast."

"Then we must address this personally," Thor growled, raising Mjolnir as if ready to leap into combat immediately, and as little as Loki loved battle, he knew Thor was right.

Loki nodded curtly and turned back to the still-kneeling warrior. "Lady Sif, gather the Warriors Three and a legion of Asgard's finest. We leave at once. Jane, Taryn, the throne of Asgard is yours until we return. Mother, please assist them as necessary."

"Of course, my Kings," Frigga replied calmly, inclining her head. Sif saluted again and left as abruptly as she'd come.

Jane and Taryn had both stood now, pale and wide-eyed at the sudden shattering of the peace and humor they'd shared only moments before. "Just like that?" Jane said, her voice much higher than usual. "There's an attack and both the kings just leave?"

"Shouldn't one of you stay here?" Taryn asked, nodding in agreement with Jane's concerns. "What if it's a trap?"

"And which one of us would you have appear too cowardly to face a battle?" Loki returned, but gently. Taryn flushed and he touched her cheek. "Of course it's a trap, my lady, but we know that, and therefore have an advantage. We have been doing this for a thousand years," he murmured when she didn't look reassured. "So far, we have always managed to come home."

"And usually we have not had the luxury of a legion at our backs. Do not worry, Jane," Thor agreed. He hugged her and rested his palm over her stomach for an instant before turning his thousand megawatt smile on Taryn. "And you should know by now that none can outsmart my brother. They will not know what hit them."

Then Frigga came to their side and placed a kiss on each of her sons' brows. "Strike true for the glory of Asgard," she said, and then took Jane and Taryn by the hands. "Come, eat, both of you. We will speak of the duties of a queen when the king goes to war," she urged, nodding at Thor and Loki to reassure them that she had this situation under control. Loki took a deep breath, unutterably grateful to her in that moment. He hated putting such a look on Taryn's face but this was unavoidable.

Jane bit her lip and finally nodded. Taryn's gaze lingered on Loki for a long moment, then she too nodded, and he inclined his head to her.

Then he and Thor left them to prepare for the conflict to come.

As soon as the door closed behind the two, Jane burst into tears. Frigga held her and rocked her gently. "Hush, now, they will be fine," the elder Æsir said with an assurance Taryn definitely did not share.

"How can you be so calm?" Taryn asked, sinking back into her chair, feeling weak.

Frigga actually laughed a little. Jane pulled back and Frigga wiped her face with her own silk handkerchief, just as if Jane were a little girl. "You think I am?"

"You are," Jane said, and it sounded like an accusation.

Frigga shook her head. "Child, I sent Odin off to war a thousand times. I have seen him return in victory and glory, or bloodied and on the edge of death. It never becomes any easier," she told them. When they both looked at her in astonishment, she smiled. "And sending my sons to battle is less so. But you are queens," she said, the gentleness of her voice changing to something stronger, showing the steel that lived beneath her calm, nurturing exterior. "As was I. This is but the first time you will watch them ride away into danger, and in a few years, you will also see your own sons do the same. Showing fear is not a luxury you are allowed."

"The duties of a queen," Taryn murmured, understanding now what Frigga had meant by that. The elder woman nodded at her words.

"You will sit on the throne while they are away, and we will speak of that anon," Frigga told them, "but for now, listen to me well. Soon Thor and Loki will ride down the Rainbow Bridge at the head of a proud force of men. Every one of them knows that fighting alongside his kings is the highest honor he could be given. Every one of them hopes to die valiantly defending his liege and Asgard. You will stand upon the steps of the palace and smile and bless them as they leave, and _you will not weep, Jane!_ " These last words were a whip.

Jane took the handkerchief and wiped her eyes dry, but it was useless. "Damn hormones," she muttered as the tears started up again. "I swear I never cry."

For an instant, Frigga's face froze. Then she spoke carefully, almost as though afraid of the answer she would receive. "Jane, do you carry my grandchild?"

The scientist nodded, still unsuccessfully trying to stem the flood of her tears. "I'm almost five months along now," she said, pressing her hand to her still-flat stomach. "I don't know why I'm not showing any."

"An Æsir pregnancy is fifteen months, not nine. That's why Thor rushed the wedding preparations so," Frigga sighed, and wrapped her in a tight hug again. "Oh, Jane, you have brought so much joy to Asgard, but you _must_ control your tears when Thor rides out. Showing such fear will be interpreted to mean that you do not have faith in him as a fighter. A queen cannot put such doubt in the minds of Asgard's warriors. Let it all out now, dear, so that you can be strong for him when we send them on their way."

Then her gaze fell on Taryn. "And you as well," she said with a sigh. "If you need to break down, do it now."

Taryn shook her head, her own eyes achingly dry. "No," she said. "No, I… I'm all right."

She would have to be.


	23. Blood and Wine

Less than an hour had passed when Thor and Loki emerged from the palace, both now fully armored, Mjolnir and Gugnir in hand. Much of the kingdom had turned out to see them off, responding to the rumors that spread like wildfire. Sif, Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral were already mounted before the assembled legion. Beside them, Sleipnir pawed the ground impatiently, and a magnificent stallion nearly the height and breadth of Loki's magical steed awaited Thor–Gullfaxi, the stallion he'd won from the giant Hrungnir.

Taryn, Frigga, and Jane walked a pace behind the brothers. The cheer that met them was almost enough to knock Taryn off her feet, but she glanced once at Frigga's serene face–now knowing the fear she hid behind that small, confident smile–and did her best to imitate it. When the five reached the edge of the steps that led down to the waiting crowd, Thor and Loki paused and turned to face the three women.

Jane's eyes were dry now as she smiled up at Thor. "Aim true and strike swift, son of Odin," she said, giving him the warrior's parting blessing that Frigga had taught her, and if her voice was tight with suppressed emotion, no one here would judge her harshly for it.

"Keep an eye to the Bifrost, sweet Jane. This will not take us long," Thor replied, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles. Then he cast a swift glance at her belly, clearly thinking of their child within. "Care well for yourself in my absence, my love."

Taryn touched Loki's cheek with a gentle hand, fighting down the urge to clasp him tight and beg him to remain safe here in Asgard beside her, because Frigga and Loki were both right. Staying with her would only make him appear weak. "The only warrior's blessing I know is _come home with your shield or on it_ , which doesn't work because you don't carry a shield," she said, and he smiled, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood.

"I shall acquire one at once, my lady, just for you," he returned softly. Then, not caring about the massed group of the Æsir watching, he leaned down and kissed her–briefly, just the quick press of his lips and a flash of his tongue against hers, but so achingly sweet that she had to blink rapidly to dispel tears. "My heart stays with you," he murmured, just as he had months ago when he'd left her in that mountain cabin.

"I will keep it safe for you," she whispered, then dropped her hand, releasing him. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. "Make sure the rest of you doesn't get damaged, either."

Frigga then stepped forward, hands raised, and touched her sons on the forehead. "Our blessings go with you, warriors of Asgard," she said, her voice carrying to all those assembled below.

With one last lingering look at their women, Thor and Loki smiled and turned away. Taryn heard Jane sniffling furiously and didn't dare to look at her, concentrating instead on keeping the confident smile on her lips and her own eyes dry. She drank in the sight of Loki as he smoothly mounted Sleipnir, admiring his grace, the coiled strength of that body she loved so well, rather than thinking of the fight he rode toward. The gorgeous black stallion reared, four enormous hooves fighting the air, four on the ground, a magnificent display of power so casually controlled by but one of Loki's hands on the reins.

Thor likewise mounted the golden Gullfaxi, and together the kings wheeled to face their warriors. "To battle, for the glory of Asgard!" Thor roared, and the legion shouted a war-cry in return, pounding swords on shields.

And then they galloped forward to the cheers of the Æsir, pounding down the Rainbow Bridge to where Heimdall waited to send them into battle.

Frigga stood still and calm between Jane and Taryn until the bright flash of the Bifrost marked the army's departure. Only then did she take their hands and draw them back into the palace. "Abide but a few moments more, Jane," she whispered, and Taryn heard the sniffling picking up again. "You are doing well. Just a little longer now."

Finally they reached the doors to the throne room. Frigga nodded to the guards who threw them wide to admit the trio. "Wait here until we call," she commanded, and they clasped fists to chest in acquiescence before closing them inside, alone at last.

Taryn expected Jane to fall apart as soon as the doors closed, but the scientist surprised her. A few tears did fall, but she dashed them away almost impatiently and turned to Frigga. "Now what?" she asked bluntly.

Frigga smiled, clearly impressed by this unexpected show of strength. "Now we discuss what it means to rule in my sons' absence," she said. She gestured at the thrones. "Come, both of you, take your places. We will only be granted a few moments before the demands begin. There are always those who feel that they could receive better treatment at the hands of the queen than they did from the king. You must be prepared for it."

Taryn followed Jane to the dais and saw that both tiaras sat ready upon the velvet cushioned thrones. Jane donned hers and sat down, but when Taryn lifted the horned tiara, she could not make herself do the same. She caught Frigga's eye and lowered the tiara with a sigh. "Much as I'd like to, I can't honestly wear this," she said, tracing one golden horn with a fingertip, remembering the quickly-masked looks of surprise and distaste leveled at her the one day she'd sat beside Loki here. "Actually, I don't think I should even sit up here while they're gone. I don't want anyone to feel insulted."

Frigga contemplated her for a moment, then nodded, surprising her. "You are right," she agreed. "Until Loki marries you, you are not a Queen of the Æsir, and as he has not yet announced your betrothal, it would not be appropriate for you to claim a place as regent."

Jane turned to her, going pale. "You're not seriously going to leave me to do this alone?"

Taryn shook her head. "Of course not," she reassured the petite woman. She placed the tiara back upon the throne, then went and stood at Jane's shoulder in the position usually held by the royal advisor. "I just won't pretend to be what I'm not, that's all. I'm going to be right here with you."

Frigga likewise climbed the steps, stopping behind Jane's other shoulder. "As will I," she promised, and called to the guards. "You may admit the first of them," she commanded, and thus began a stream of petitioners and requests that made Taryn almost wish for the boredom she'd complained of last night.

Well, actually, that wasn't true. Apart from the ambassadors from minor kingdoms who sought amendments to their agreements struck with Thor and Loki–uniformly denied by Jane–the matters brought before them were actually quite important. The throne of Asgard was like the ultimate Supreme Court. Anyone who'd been wronged could petition the King, or in this case, the Queen to hear their cases. Although Taryn's feet soon ached from standing behind Jane, she felt deeply proud of the judgments that she, Frigga, and Jane handed down.

This was important work, and it was something for which her many years of studying history, mythology, ancient law and culture had prepared her well.

Still, it was exhausting. Servants brought them food and wine several times, but even as they ate, the requests continued. Hours passed before Jane finally stood. "Enough for one day," she declared, her voice regal and firm, and the steady flow of those seeking boons or justice immediately stopped. She nodded to acknowledge the curtsies of Frigga and Taryn, then led them past the kneeling guards and through the hidden door into the King's private room.

Taryn collapsed onto the nearest couch as soon as the doors closed. "Thank you, Jane," she said vehemently. "I thought that would never end."

"Yeah, me too," Jane agreed, flopping down across from her. "I kept waiting for someone to say it was over, but then I finally remembered that I'm the boss. It ends when I say it does."

Frigga laughed. "And thus you have learned the most important thing about being Queen," she teased. But then her smile gentled, her gaze warm on both of them. "You did well, both of you," she praised. "My sons chose their partners wisely."

Jane practically glowed with the compliment, and Taryn felt her own cheeks flushing with pleasure, too. "Thank you, Frigga," she said, inclining her head to the older woman, and Jane echoed her.

"You're quite welcome, my dears." The elder Æsir stood and stifled a yawn. "Now, with your leave, my Queen, I will retire. It has been a very long day."

"Of course," Jane replied graciously. "Goodnight."

"We'll see you at breakfast," Taryn added, wanting the tradition to continue even if their men weren't there. Frigga nodded with a smile and then left them alone.

Taryn went to the sideboard and poured two glasses of wine. She met Jane's eyes as she handed her one. The scientist looked as exhausted as she felt. "How was it?" she asked, sinking back down onto the stacked pillows with a sigh. "Sitting on the throne, handing down decrees?"

Jane raised an eyebrow. "You were there."

"Yes, but I wasn't the one in the hot seat," Taryn pointed out. "As you said, you're the boss. I had it easier–I was just your advisor."

"True," Jane sighed. She rested her chin on her fist for a moment, staring into the roaring fireplace, then laughed a little. "I was trying to think of a word other than terrifying, but I'm having a hard time. God, the pressure! The whole time I was so scared I'd do something wrong, give the wrong verdict, agree to something that would end up hurting Asgard. I don't see how Thor and Loki stand it."

Her gaze finally left the dancing flames and locked onto Taryn's. "Honestly, next time I'd be more than happy to let you be the boss. Hurry up and marry Loki already, will you?"

"Not if we can help it. One Midgardian pet on the throne is more than enough."

The growling voice, shocking when Taryn had been positive the two of them were the only ones in the room, brought both women surging to their feet. "We did not give you leave to enter here. Who are you?" Jane said, facing the group of armored and masked Æsir who had slipped into the room without their knowledge–at least a dozen, maybe more. Taryn didn't take time to count them, but even so, she couldn't help but notice the men stood between them and the doors. There was no mistaking the threat there. Small as she was, Jane drew herself up with queenly dignity and demanded, "What do you want?"

Their reply was to unsheathe their swords as one.

"Guards!" Taryn shouted, almost falling over the wide, low table between the couches in her haste to get to Jane's side, and Jane echoed her cry. Wine splashed in a crimson arc across the smooth stone floor.

"They are beyond answering your summons," said the one who had first spoken.

Taryn grasped Jane's arm tight and resisted the urge to reach up and touch her necklace. "Stay behind me," she whispered, thinking of that baby and remembering how the Oroborous had protected her in the mirror realm. Jane immediately moved into her shadow, clearly also remembering the magic infused in her necklace.

Then Taryn raised her voice, and in conscious imitation of Jane, she infused her words with an utter confidence she didn't truly feel. "You would betray Thor and Loki, your kings?" she said, knowing that Loki would hear her the instant his name passed her lips.

All of them laughed. "It is no betrayal to rid Asgard of your human stench," the leader mocked.

_Taryn, what's happening?_

She'd never been so glad to hear anything in all her life as she was to hear her lover's voice in her mind at that moment. But she remembered his directive not to give away the powers inherent in the Oroborous, and she spoke her reply carefully. "Odin All-Father himself forbade the spilling of blood in Asgard. Would you truly defile Lerad by committing murder here?" Lerad, the peace-giving topmost branch of Yggdrasil beneath which Odin and the first gods had established Asgard, had never known bloodshed. It was unthinkable.

Loki's response in her mind was immediate, furious. _Help is coming, Taryn, have no fear of that._

But unless it got here in the next two seconds, it was going to be too late. "Your lover the Serpent-tongue broke that decree when he killed Laufey," he snarled. "Like so many things, this is the fault of the Lie-smith."

The assassins surged forward to attack. Taryn barely had time to spin around, giving them her back and wrapping herself around Jane, before the first blade slashed at her. She screamed in mingled terror and agony as steel ripped through skin and muscle and sinew. "Oh God, _Loki!"_

The green magic flared viciously, healing the wound on her back and sizzling out to incinerate the one who had injured her. His dying shrieks drowned out any other sound, even Loki's voice inside her head. Jane was screaming now, too, and Taryn tried to shove the other woman back against the wall, to protect the queen as best she could. While she wore Loki's necklace, she couldn't be killed. Jane had no such assurance.

But it was useless–they were surrounded. Another sword stabbed, this time penetrating through Taryn's chest in a blazing line of agony. Even as it healed, her attacker likewise perishing in the clasp of Loki's vengeful spell, another stabbed at her, and another. The healing hurt almost as much as the wounds themselves. And she didn't even have the slim comfort of knowing she was protecting Jane–she screamed as the assassins circled around to stab at the queen's unprotected back. Jane fell to her knees and Taryn went with her, slipping in the blood and wine mingling in crimson waves on the floor, wondering how much of the blood was hers and how much was Jane's.

"The whore's necklace protects her–take it!" someone shouted, and rough hands grabbed Taryn's throat.

There was an explosion of vengeful light and the hands on her neck were blown to ash. "Odin's beard!" one of the attackers gasped. Taryn heard the sound of running feet, but the Oroborous gave a little shiver and the footsteps stumbled and stopped. The dull thud of a body hitting the stone floor was sickeningly final in the sudden silence.

And as abruptly as it had begun, the attack was over.

Taryn panted, her entire body on fire with pain, and finally became aware that Loki was frantically calling to her and had been for some time. "I'm here," she gasped, belatedly unwrapping herself from around Jane. The other woman was pale and bloodstained, her eyes wide, glassy, her mouth open in a silent scream as she shook with reaction in Taryn's grasp. "They're dead, it's over," Taryn said, not sure who she was trying to reassure at that point.

 _Heimdall is sending guards to you_ , Loki told her, and she heard his frustration that he was so far away, unable to ride to her rescue himself. _Are you harmed? Is Jane well?_

"I'm all right," she said, and then froze when she finally got a good look at the scientist she'd tried so hard to protect. Jane followed her gaze down, and the sound that came from her was a moan of such agony that it tore Taryn's heart to hear it.

A dagger protruded low from Jane's stomach, blade driven so deep that only the hilt remained. The pool of blood around them grew alarmingly quickly.

"Oh God, _oh God_ , no," Jane moaned over and over, reaching out to clasp the handle, only to yank her hands away with a wail of pain. "No, no, no…"

For a moment Taryn couldn't move, was utterly frozen with horror. Then she dragged her gaze from the vicious wound and focused on Jane's face, on the terror in her eyes. "We'll fix this, Jane, we'll fix it," she said, babbling, tears running down her own face because she didn't need a medical degree to recognize a mortal wound when she saw one. Neither Jane nor her baby could survive this. "Don't worry, help is coming, we'll fix it, stay with me!"

 _Taryn!_ Now Loki's voice was a shout, painful. _Taryn, tell me what is happening, now!_

She couldn't take the time to answer–there was no time. She could think of only one thing that could save her friend. She reached up, grasped the necklace, and closed her eyes. "Come off," she murmured, and the snake released its fanged grip on its own tail.

_No, Taryn!_

Loki's panicked voice vanished from her mind and a sweeping, desperate fatigue rolled over Taryn–clearly the Oroborous had sustained her more than she'd thought. But she pushed that concern and all others aside, concentrating as she pulled the snake-chain off and touched it to Jane's neck. "Save her," she told the magic snake, praying that it could, that she wasn't too late as her own strength waned alarmingly. "Save them both."

For an instant, Taryn thought it wouldn't obey her, but then it came to life in her hands as it had when she'd accepted it from Loki. It slithered around Jane's throat, grasped its tail once more in its teeth, and suddenly exploded in green light.

And as Jane screamed with the agony of healing, Taryn slid unconscious into the puddle of blood.


	24. Wine and Blood

The attack on the Svartalfheim outpost had left the Æsir fort an empty, smoking ruin.

Loki saw the smudged black line across the sky as soon as the glow of the Bifrost faded and wondered if they would be fortunate enough to find survivors. He exchanged a glance with his brother–Thor's face was set and grim, but his blue eyes were bright with the light of battle. Loki raised Gugnir high and spurred Sleipnir on. "For Asgard!" Loki shouted, and Thor was the first to echo his battle cry.

They rode straight into the ambush–because of course it was an ambush. Loki had figured that out within seconds of their arrival, for clearly not enough time had passed between the attack and now for all the Dvergar to have departed the field of battle. The Æsir were more than ready for this "surprise" attack.

Soon everything was a haze of adrenaline–the unerring flight of Gugnir as it slew dwarf after dwarf, the green-tinted whir of his knives in the moments when Loki awaited the enchanted spear's return to his hand, Sleipnir's screams of brutal joy as his massive, deadly hooves crushed all those foolish enough to approach, the flash of Sif's glaive as she protected Loki's right flank, Volstagg's hearty laughter from his left.

Thor had dismounted and fought side-by-side with the legion. Mjolnir had not tasted blood in too long and the mighty hammer seemed to sing with its own joy as Thor decimated the ranks of Dvergar. Hogun's spiked mace flashed in the light of the burning fort, claiming almost as many victims as Fandral's quicksilver blade as the two warriors stationed themselves beside their golden King. Even over the cacophony of battle, Loki heard Thor's shouts as he taunted the Dvergar, urging them to _do better than that, come on, do you plan to make us die of boredom?_ He laughed at his brother, remembering a thousand other fights, a thousand other taunts, and yes, though he'd never loved battle as Thor did, there was a joy to it. There was a triumph to slaying his enemies, in the bright spray of blood in the cold air and the dismayed faces of the Dvergar as they realized they were vastly outmatched. Nothing else could compare.

The sun was near setting when the battle was won. Thor declared that ten prisoners should be taken for interrogation, no more, but the dwarves' defeat was so complete that finding even that small number proved a challenge.

But just because the fighting was over didn't mean anything like relaxation. The fort was a complete loss, nothing more than a mass of shattered stone and charred wood, so Thor set the warriors to making camp while Loki oversaw the healing of the wounded. In the meantime, Sif and the Warriors Three began preparations for the proper burial of what few Æsir bodies remained to be found.

Only once all the wounded had been seen to did Loki join Thor in their magically soundproofed command tent to tend their own few wounds. Thor waved him away with a murmured, "'Tis nothing, brother, merely a scratch," when Loki tried to reach for the Thunderer's bandaged arm. Loki didn't argue. Exhausted, wanting nothing more than food, drink, and a much-needed rest, he collapsed wearily onto a cushioned chair. Despite the totality of the Æsir's victory, there had been many wounds to heal, and even his great strength was sapped by the task.

"You have gained much honor this day, brother," Thor said as he clapped his brother on the shoulder, giving him a proud smile that Loki couldn't help but return. Such words of praise for his spellcasting ability were still rare. "And you were a sight to behold in the battle. Even those who had never fought alongside you can no longer deny that you are a true warrior of Asgard, magic or no. This day has done much to prove your worth to our men." He raised his stein of mead in salute. "Congratulations, brother, on your first victorious battle as king!"

"Yes, but the whispers will continue," Loki sighed. Despite Thor's happiness and the rush of triumph in his own veins, life had taught him to be realistic. "Even those I healed still will call it a woman's art."

"But you don't hear them complaining when it is their guts you are putting back where they belong," Thor laughed, and he had to smile wryly at that. It was true enough. Even the most steadfast hater of Loki's so-called womanly arts had difficulty maintaining their scorn while they were bleeding out onto the cold ground. Thor poured a goblet of wine for Loki. "Still, perhaps they are right. You still have a way to go before you can hope to match my tally of foes slain," he added, blue eyes twinkling with humor.

"Perhaps I merely find less pleasure in bathing in the stench of dwarf blood. And speaking of bathing, it is an activity you should consider, and soon," Loki returned, wrinkling his nose pointedly. He had washed the stink of the battlefield away as soon as possible and had insisted that all his patients do the same.

Thor inhaled deeply, grinning. "It smells like the defeat of our enemies, brother. 'Tis glorious."

"It smells like blood and shit, brother. 'Tis disgusting." Taking the proffered goblet with a smile, Loki relaxed back in his chair as though he didn't know exactly where this conversation was headed–wrestling with his brother as though they were boys, Thor trying to force Loki's head into his armpit or some other disgusting area while Loki shifted through a myriad of shapes, nearly impossible to hold. "However, I must admit it is an improvement over your usual reek."

Thor's look of outrage was spoiled by his laughter–he, too, knew where this was headed. "Oh, you will regret those words," he vowed, and reached for Loki just as Taryn's voice sounded in his head.

_… Loki, your kings?_

Loki froze, holding up a hand to halt Thor as sudden apprehension swamped him. He'd become accustomed to hearing Taryn's voice in his mind whenever she said his name, and usually it was nothing, but something in her tone this time caught his attention. She sounded…

… she sounded _frightened_.

"Brother, what is it?" Thor asked, a frown replacing his playful smiles.

But Loki didn't answer. Tuning Thor out, he concentrated on his connection to his lady. "Taryn, what's happening?" he murmured, sending the words along that mental pathway and feeling the drain on his magic at once. Truly, he'd forgotten how tiring speaking between the realms could be since Taryn had come to Asgard, and he'd used a prodigious amount of magic both during the battle and in healing the wounded afterwards.

"Speak to me, Loki. Is something amiss?" Thor asked, his own drink now held still in one massive hand, its contents forgotten. Loki held up a hand to silence him, concentrating, waiting for her answer.

When it came, it froze his heart.

_Odin All-Father himself forbade the spilling of blood in Asgard. Would you truly defile Lerad by committing murder here?_

"Loki, speak to me!" Thor demanded, and Loki realized that he'd surged to his feet, knocking the chair over.

"Call to Heimdall. Have him send help to Jane and Taryn at once," he commanded, and when Thor stared at him, Loki snarled, "Do it!" Then he tuned out Thor and cast his mind back along that too-thin cord connecting his mind with hers. "Help is coming, Taryn, have no fear of that." He tried to make his voice confident, soothing, but he was unable to keep his rage from the words. Fury seethed through him as he reached for the pathways between dimensions, searching for the fastest way back to her.

How _dare_ the cowards attack Taryn and Jane while he and Thor fought to defend Asgard?

 _Oh God,_ Loki!

Taryn's agonized scream cut through him, sharper than any blade. His grasp on his magic shattered with fear for her. "Taryn!" he shouted, and Thor grabbed his shoulders so tight that it hurt.

"Brother, what is it? What is happening?" he roared, and Loki could barely find enough coherence to answer through the screams echoing in his mind, to tell him that Taryn and Jane were even now fighting for their lives. But something must have gotten through because in the next instant, Thor was dragging him out of the tent and shoving his way past their guards, his goal the Bifrost site.

He was more than happy to let Thor take charge. Loki managed to control his voice, to call to Taryn with his mind only, to keep this terror from being exposed to the entire army. Still, the sight of the two kings running back to the Bifrost site with Sif and the Warriors Three instantly falling in at their heels was certainly enough to leave a ripple of confusion in their wake.

And Loki absolutely didn't give a damn. As soon as they passed over the hills that had hidden the Dvergar's ill-advised ambush, Loki pressed both hands to his head and fell to his knees, not caring that it looked like utter desperation because it was. _Taryn, answer me!_ he demanded over and over, vaguely aware that Thor had yanked him back up onto his feet, had pulled one arm around his broad shoulders and was dragging him onward. Her only reply was to scream, the pain and fear in that sound piercing his heart like poisoned knives. When silence fell, it only fed his terror. _Speak to me! Taryn, please, say something!_

_I'm here._

Those two words, even breathless and trembling, were the sweetest thing Loki had ever heard. Momentarily struck mute with relief, he sagged in Thor's grip as she went on. _They're dead, it's over._

Loki repeated that assurance to Thor, and while it clearly provided no little comfort to his brother, the blond god's jaw was still tight and his eyes blazed with rage. "Heimdall is sending guards to you," Loki said, answering her aloud this time. For some reason, it seemed to take less energy than doing so mentally. "Are you harmed? Is Jane well?"

 _I'm all right_ , Taryn replied, but then she went completely and utterly silent.

"Loki?" Thor said, demanding the answer to that question, but Loki couldn't speak. He felt Taryn's sudden burst of fear and horror through the connection he still held despite the magic drain that was starting to make him nauseated.

Finally he heard her again. But this time she wasn't talking to Loki, and what he heard was far from comforting. _We'll fix this, Jane, we'll fix it. Don't worry, help is coming, we'll fix it, stay with me!_

Loki's gaze shot to his brother's face. Whatever Thor saw there made him shout out a denial. "Heimdall, bring us home now!" the Thunderer demanded despite knowing that the Bifrost only opened in certain locations. Desperation gave his voice an edge Loki had never heard there before. "Heimdall!"

"Taryn!" Loki's fear grew within him like cancer, a harsh knot in his chest. "Taryn, tell me what's happening, now!"

But she didn't. _Come off,_ she said, and then she was gone.

"Taryn, no!" Loki shouted, feeling the severing of their tie, knowing only one thing could have caused it. She had taken off his necklace–she had removed her only protection and he didn't know if more assassins were lurking. _"No!"_

And an instant later, agony hit Loki with such force that all thought incinerated.


	25. Aftermath

Thor almost dropped his brother as Loki screamed and writhed in his grip like a mad thing. "Brother, what is it?" he demanded, but Loki was beyond answering.

His terror over the fate of his wife and their child was suddenly eclipsed by that for his brother.

Loki broke free from Thor's grasp and fell hard, thrashing in the dirt, screaming incoherently as though in the sadistic grip of some unseen torturer. The few wounds he'd sustained in the battle burst open anew and sprayed blood. Thor tried to lay hold of him, to restrain him lest he injure himself further–a grotesque parody of the playful wrestling match they'd anticipated–but it was impossible. Body twisting and rigid, hands clawing at the ground beneath him, screams of pure agony tearing from his throat, Loki seemed to have utterly lost his sanity.

And then Thor drew back with a hiss of pain as his hands froze where they gripped Loki's shoulders.

"By the Norns, what has happened to him?" Volstagg gasped, stumbling back as Loki's Jötunn form was revealed to all.

Sif swore and drew her glaive. "Thor, what is the meaning of this?"

But Volstagg's shock and Sif's harsh question barely penetrated Thor's fear and he didn't bother answering them. "Brother, what do I do? Tell me how to help you!" Thor cried, ignoring the pain of his skin freezing and cracking as he grasped Loki's shoulders again.

Shoulders which had never been as muscled as Thor's, but still should not have felt so thin and frail in his grip.

And suddenly Thor understood in a flash–the necklace which magically bound Taryn's life to Loki's and was enchanted to heal any wound.

The loss of Loki's spell of concealment, his most closely held magic.

Was the talisman draining Loki dry of his power to save her life?

His brother still screamed, but his voice was weakening, his very form shriveling before their eyes. Bloody tears trickled from his eyes, streamed from his nose and ears. Thor remembered the massive waves of power that had rolled from Loki when he'd revealed his full magic the night of Odin's announcement and it terrified him to think what horrific injuries Taryn must've suffered that it would take Loki to the point of death to heal her.  _Think!_  Thor commanded himself desperately.  _There has to be a way to help him!_

Volstagg took another step back, drawing Thor's gaze, and in an instant Thor knew the answer.

He didn't have time to explain. He leapt at the older warrior, spun him around and tore the pack from his shoulders. "Thor, what are you  _doing?_ " Sif yelled, but he had no time to spare for her, either. Dumping Volstagg's pack on the ground, he finally found what he was looking for.

Three of Idunna's golden apples–Volstagg went nowhere without food.

Snatching them up, Thor fell to his knees beside his brother again and gently cradled his head in one massive hand. Loki was going still now, glacier-blue cheeks sunken in, fiery-red eyes dull, even the blood flowing from his wounds slowing to a sluggish trickle, but he still made incoherent moaning sounds deep in his throat and his fingers scrabbled in the dust. "Stay with me, brother," Thor begged, unconsciously echoing Taryn's plea to Jane. Holding an apple over Loki's gaping mouth, he crushed it in his fist.

The juice ran down his frost-blackened fingers and dribbled into Loki's mouth. Choking on it at first, Loki finally managed to swallow. At once Thor could tell that he'd done the right thing–while his brother clearly still struggled against the agony of having his magic ripped shrieking from his soul, his moaning and writhing stopped. Once the first apple had been squeezed dry, Thor cast the desiccated remains aside and did the same with the next.

By the time this one was squeezed to the last drop, Loki had recovered enough to curl onto his side, panting and shaking all over with shock and reaction. Thor pressed the final apple into his hand, only now noticing the agony of his own cracked and bleeding fingers. He dismissed his own pain as unworthy of notice–not now, not while Loki needed him so badly. "Eat all of this one, brother," he commanded, infusing his voice with a calm confidence he did not feel. "It will sustain you until we can bring you to the healers."

But Loki didn't bring the fruit to his lips immediately. Instead he looked at Sif and the Warriors Three, all of whom were staring down at him in complete and utter horror. "So now you know the truth of me," he told them, his voice trembling and weak, as broken as his body. "If you wish to strike me down, I am defenseless before you."

Thor growled and half-lifted Mjolnir, formidable even on his knees. "Never defenseless while I still draw breath," he rumbled.

Sif, as always, was the first of them to speak. Her voice betrayed her shock at the sight of the wasted, blood-stained  _thing_  lying in the dirt before them. "You knew of this, Thor?"

"Yes." Thor's reply was curt. "I knew of my brother's true form before this day."

"Did the All-Father know?" she pressed, looking between them as if confused as to why Thor would continue to call this monster, this  _Jötunn_ , his brother.

Loki laughed on the ground, but there was no humor in the bitter sound. "My dearest Lady Sif, who do you think did this to me?"

"This explains much," Hogun murmured, thoughtful, the only one who hadn't backed away.

"We have no time for this," Thor growled. He tore off his cape and Loki's and wrapped both around his brother–as much to ease Loki as to protect himself from being further frostbitten–then stood and carefully, gently lifted him from the dirt. The cold was still biting but it did not burn him this time. He stared at the four warriors, his closest friends, challenging them with every line of his body. "My queen has been attacked and my brother is gravely injured. I would rather not fight you all, but if you will declare Loki your enemy, I will make the time to kill you. What say you? Are you still loyal to both kings of the Æsir? Declare yourselves now!"

The silence did not last long, and this time, grim Hogun was the one to break it. He knelt and pressed his fist to his heart without hesitation. "I pledged my life and steel to Asgard and her kings. I hold to that pledge," he vowed, and Thor was unutterably grateful to him for that.

Sif hesitated, looking between the kneeling Hogun to Thor and back. Finally she looked at Loki and swallowed hard before visibly steeling herself. "I cannot claim to understand this," she said, but she still sheathed her glaive before going down on one knee and pressing her fist to her chest. "But the All-Father surely had a reason for what he did. I remain loyal to my Kings."

Fandral and Volstagg followed their lead after only a moment's pause. "We are loyal," they pledged, likewise kneeling and clasping fists to chests.

Thor let out the breath he'd hardly been aware of holding. "Thank you, my friends. Now we must get Loki to safety without any others seeing him like this," he said. No one else in Asgard needed to know Loki's true form. Even these four warriors who'd fought beside him for a thousand years had nearly turned on him at the sight of his Jötunn's skin. Thor would not risk an attack on his brother now while he was so weak. "Help us find the traitorous cowards who attacked our women. We will have need of your strength and your steel, my friends."

"They are yours," Sif replied, and as one, she and the Warriors Three escorted Thor, Loki a too-light burden in his arms, to the place where Heimdall would bring them home.

On the way, Loki ate the final apple Thor had pressed into his hand, choking it down past the lump of terror lodged in his throat. His body greedily soaked up the life-giving power of the fruit. He licked the last traces of juice from his lips and fingers, even consuming the core and stem, desperate for every last bit of energy the apple could provide. Even the simple act of eating exhausted him. Never had he been so weak.

He cursed that weakness for striking him now when he needed so desperately to be strong to face whatever awaited them in Asgard.

By the time they arrived at the Bifrost site, Loki had managed to scrape together enough magic to restore his Æsir appearance, at least to his face and hands. It was a partial glamour at best, but better than Thor having to explain why he was carrying his brother and co-regent home wrapped up like a mummy. Loki did not have enough magic to try and reach Taryn again, though. In his current state, he feared that attempting inter-realm communication would probably kill him. But luckily it was not necessary. Thor did not even need to call to Heimdall–the Guardian was clearly watching for them, for as soon as they were within reach of the Bifrost, light speared the sky and drew them home.

The brief journey at the speed of light through Bifrost stole his breath. Loki collapsed when they arrived in the Bifrost chamber. Hogun was fastest and caught him, preventing Loki from falling to the floor, as Thor advanced on Heimdall. "Is Jane alive?" he demanded of the all-seeing guardian.

"The Queen lives, my King," Heimdall replied. "The traitors are dead. Queen Jane and Lady Taryn are safe for now, locked within the King's private chamber with Herja, Brynhildr, Skuld, and Sigrun stationed without. None will pass their watch."

The sound of galloping hooves outside echoed through the chamber as Thor sagged with the momentary surge of relief. The four Valkyries had been Odin's most trusted warriors. "I have summoned mounts for you," Heimdall explained as five riderless horses arrived. "You must go with all haste, my Kings, for Queen Jane knows not whom to trust. She will allow none to enter, and Lady Taryn requires the healers most urgently."

Loki's head snapped up. He wanted to demand more information but the imperative need to get to Taryn overruled him. When Hogun and Thor physically lifted him onto his horse–one of Sleipnir's get, not as magnificent as his sire but still faster and smarter than any mere horse–Loki spurred it into a gallop without waiting for the others.

It took all the strength he'd managed to gain from the apple to stay in the saddle until they reached the palace. They galloped right through the main gates and all the way up to the thrones before finally halting at the foot of the golden steps. Fandral was there to catch Loki when he slid off in exhaustion. Sif, Hogun, and Volstagg surrounding them, blades drawn, they charged past the thrones, past the Valkyries, and burst into the private chamber.

And as Jane cried Thor's name and threw herself into his arms, all Loki could see was blood. Frigga knelt in the grisly pool, face white with strain and hands extended over an unconscious Taryn, murmuring a spell. Fandral half-carried Loki to their side and he fell to his knees beside her in horror, breathing her name like a prayer.

A prayer that went unanswered when she gave no sign that she'd heard him.

Hardly aware of his mother, Loki lifted Taryn from the blood and pulled her into his arms, trembling with fear and weakness and reaction. Her throat looked  _wrong_  without the Oroborous there. The light kiss of her breath on his cheek was the only indication she lived. "Taryn, I'm here," he whispered, stroking the hair away from her white face with an unsteady hand, leaving red streaks in its wake. "It's all right now. Wake up, my lady, I'm here."

But she didn't wake, didn't stir at all, not even when he gathered the remaining shards of his magic and tried to awaken her magically. Loki felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, gripping tight for an instant before Thor again wrapped both arms around his bride. "What happened?" Thor demanded, his gravelly voice hardly sounding like his own.

The migraine that had started on Svartalfheim surged back to life as Loki forced spells to work despite not having enough magic to fuel them. If he couldn't power them with magic, he would use his life force itself. Pressure built to an agonizing point behind his eyes but he didn't stop trying to touch Taryn's mind. He didn't care if he sizzled every brain cell he had if he could just reach her–

"We were alone–we didn't hear them come in–there were so many of them, Thor. Taryn–she tried to shield me when they attacked," Jane said shakily, as though she could barely manage to get the words out. Loki finally tore his gaze away from Taryn's still face and met Jane's eyes. Whatever she saw in his gaze made her shudder again as she clung to Thor, but now she spoke to Loki. "She was so brave, Loki–she tried to take all the attacks on herself, but they got past her. We were surrounded," and now the words were choked through tears, "and I was stabbed right–right here–" She pressed a hand to her stomach, low, just over her womb. "There was so much blood…"

"Shh, Jane, hush now," Thor said, holding her tighter, his enormous body dwarfing her trembling form.

"That's why Taryn gave me her necklace, Loki," Jane whispered. "She saved my life–our baby's life. She saved us."

Loki shook from fury, from a rage deeper and more profound than anything he'd ever felt before. In that moment he wanted to kill Jane himself. How dare she stand there, healthy and whole, while his lady lay limp and still in his arms? How  _dare_  she? He looked down at Taryn again before Thor could see his murderous intentions in his eyes.

The sight of her pale and bloodstained face did nothing to quell his rage.

"That is why it fed on your magic so severely," Thor said, his normally-thundering voice now strained. "Loki, brother, Taryn's sacrifice and your magic have saved my wife and child from the grasp of death itself. I can never repay the debt I owe you, but until Ragnarok comes, my life is yours. Anything that is within my power to give, I will give you gladly."

 _I don't give a damn about your wife or child or your thrice-damned gratitude!_  Loki thought viciously, but somehow he kept those words locked behind his teeth. If Taryn had been a warrior, he would have been proud of her bravery and sacrifice. But he wasn't proud of this. He was infuriated that she'd given away her protection, put herself at risk. Only the soft whisper of her breath on his skin kept him immobile.  
Without that, drained of magic or not, Loki would tear the universe apart in retribution.

"Then have your wife give her necklace back," Loki finally rasped, not looking at Jane, knowing she'd see his rage in his eyes–not even addressing her, sure the poison of his anger would sicken her if he did. "It's not meant for her. Give it  _back."_

"I've tried," Jane whispered wretchedly. "It won't come off."

Of course it wouldn't. Loki cursed himself anew for not making the necklace obey him instead of Taryn. The silence stretched far past the point of strain when he didn't reply to Jane, didn't explain why she couldn't remove the Oroborous. One enormous hand gripped Loki's shoulder tight. "Mother, does Taryn yet live?" Thor finally asked.

"She lives." Frigga's voice was weary. "But it was a near thing, my son. Had I arrived but a few moments later…"

"Why won't she wake?" Loki's voice was harsh with pain and tangled emotion. Try as he might to touch her mind and awaken her, his mental probing reached nothing. Perhaps it was simply because his magic was so dangerously weak, but it seemed almost as though the woman he held was but an empty husk. Mere flesh without spirit.

Thor's grip became painful at the fear he heard in Loki's voice. "She needs the healers, as do you," he said softly, his own voice tight, "You're bleeding again, brother."

"Can we trust them?" Sif asked, and Loki was grateful that she had asked the question because his voice no longer wanted to work. He kept trying, kept probing, even when his vision doubled and went dim with exhaustion.

But he found nothing. Not a single spark flickered within Taryn. Her mind was just… gone. Despair, thicker even than when he'd fallen from the Bifrost, overcame him, and Loki finally relented. It was that or collapse, and he needed to be conscious to hear with the healers said. His mind still spun out theories and calculations despite the pain, and the more information he could feed into his deliberations, the sooner he'd find the solution. Swaying with exhaustion on his knees in the blood, Loki clung to Taryn and breathed harshly.

"For now, we trust no one," Thor replied in a tone like steel. "No one outside this room. One of us stays in the healing room at all times to guard Loki and Taryn. Agreed?"

There was the sound of fists hitting chests as the four warriors bowed their heads in acquiescence to their king's command. "Allow me to help you, my King," Volstagg said as he knelt in the blood at Loki's side, arms outstretched. "I will carry your lady."

Giving her over was one of the hardest things Loki had ever done. Loki only did so because he knew he could not stand right now, much less carry her to the healing room himself. Volstagg cradled Taryn in his arms as though she were made of crystal and Loki knew he fully felt the weight of the responsibility Loki had given him. "Be careful. We don't know where she may be wounded," he warned, knowing it was unnecessary but unable to keep the words back.

"Upon my life, she will not feel a single bump," Volstagg promised, and then Thor lifted Loki, and that was the last he knew.


	26. Awakenings and Sleep

Loki awakened but kept his eyes closed, praying it had all been a nightmare.

Reaching out, he felt for Taryn. She wasn't at his side, but sometimes she rolled away in her sleep–she wouldn't be far. His fingers felt over the cool expanse of mattress, searching, finding nothing.

"Notify Thor that Loki is awake," Sif commanded someone else in the room, and then Loki knew it had been no dream.

Despair and panic washed over him in equal measure–no dream, no nightmare. Loki threw the blankets aside, only dimly aware that he'd been taken out of his armor and washed and dressed in clean linens. "Where is she?" he demanded, swinging his legs out of bed, ignoring the rush of dizziness that tried to force him to lie down again. Firelight flickered off the golden walls of the healing room. "Where is Taryn?"

Sif grasped his shoulder firmly to steady him but didn't try to press him back down onto the pillows. "She is here, my King, safe and well," she reassured him.

"Take me to her," Loki said, and Sif helped him stumble the few steps that separated his bed from Taryn's.

He let out a broken moan of denial when he saw her lying there. Despite having been bathed and changed just as he had been, Taryn looked awful. She was white as the sheets she lay upon. Even her vividly red hair was dull, lifeless. "How long?" he whispered. She looked like she'd been like this for months. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Three days," Sif replied softly.

Taryn's condition had worsened this much in just three days? Loki's knees went weak but Sif had pushed a chair up behind him, so instead of collapsing he just sat. He closed his eyes, feeling for his magic–still so weak, a mere spark where the blazing inferno of Chaos had lived–and once more tried to touch her mind.

And once more, he found nothing there.

"What happened to her?" he asked harshly, gripping the edge of the bed so hard his knuckles went white and the wood creaked. "This is no coma, no reaction to her wounds. What is this?"

"My King, we fear it was poison."

Loki's eyes flew open and he stabbed Eir with a piercing gaze. He'd expected no answer at all. This one didn't soothe him a bit. "Explain," he growled.

The head healer bowed her head, twisting her fingers together in uncharacteristic nervousness. "Her body is in perfect condition," she said, looking at her hands instead of Loki. "The necklace she wore seems to have healing properties, for Queen Jane says that it had mended all her hurts before she took it off. We think that Lady Taryn had been being poisoned for some time before the attack but the necklace kept it from taking effect. Once it was removed, the cumulative effects… it hit all her at once. We have removed all traces of poison from her system, but the damage has been done." She gestured helplessly at the bed. "I am not sure what more can be done for her."

"I keep trying to give her necklace back to her, Loki. It still won't come off."

Jane's voice behind him was desolate. Loki looked up and saw Thor leading her into the healing room, both their faces grim. She reached up, grabbed the necklace and pulled, pulled so hard the chain dug into her neck, and it didn't give. "Come off, let go, get off me, go back to Taryn!" Jane commanded hopelessly, grasping the tail and head of the snake and trying to wrench them apart.

But no matter what she did, the necklace stayed immobile, its green jeweled eyes dull and inert. She tried to pull it over her head and remove it that way, but it wasn't large enough. Finally Jane dropped her hands with a sigh. "When she gave it to me, she told it to come off. But when I tell it to come off, nothing happens. What am I doing wrong?"

Loki just stared for a moment, caught by the sight of his Oroborous on Jane's throat, the  _wrongness_  of it. This time, though, seeing it brought no rage, only despair. "The fault does not lie with you, Jane. I created it to come off only if she wished it and to be impossible to remove by force." He laughed, a sound utterly without humor. "I had intended that to be a protection for her. Like so many other things, this has not turned out like I planned."

Thor ignored that. "Then until she can wake up and tell it to return to her, it will stay on Jane?" He didn't sound thrilled at the prospect and Loki remembered how he'd felt when he'd imagined Thor's symbol upon his own beloved.

Loki nodded, the answer too bitter to speak. The Oroborous could heal Taryn–he was certain of that–but they had no way of getting it on her again. And his own magic was still too weak to attempt any healing spells of his own. "Wake up," he whispered, looking down at her still, pale face, stroking her hair back from her forehead. "Wake up, my lady, and call your gift back to you. Please."

But Taryn didn't wake that day, nor during the week that followed as Loki recovered in the healing room beside her. True to Thor's command, one of the Warriors Three remained in the healing room at all times, often accompanied by Frigga. Loki would often awaken from sleep–the only thing that could recharge his magic any faster, to his extreme frustration–to see his mother murmuring over Taryn's bed, trying her own spells to awaken her while Sif or Hogun or Fandral looked on anxiously. Yet no matter what she or Eir or any of the other healers tried, Taryn did not so much as twitch.

When Eir pronounced Loki fit to leave the healing room, he refused to go. Now that his magic was fully restored, Loki threw himself into trying everything he could think of to awaken Taryn. He was frustrated at every turn, however. Entering her mind was like plunging into an endlessly deep well. No matter how deeply he dove, Loki never found any sign of her in those depths.

Another week passed before Thor physically dragged him out of the healing room, ignoring Loki's protests. "You have not eaten or slept since Eir released you, brother," Thor told him, "and if you truly wish to be of any use to your lady, you must not wear yourself out so. As your king, I demand you take better care of yourself."

"You are no more my king than I am yours," Loki snapped, peevish, because he truly was exhausted and starving but had not wanted to leave Taryn's bedside for the time it would take to see to his own needs.

Thor just shrugged and pulled Loki into his chambers. "I humbly request it as your loving brother, then," he said, implacable, "who is incidentally fully prepared to beat you into submission, tie you down, and force-feed you." Loki glared and considered putting this to the test, discerning once and for all who was the stronger.

But his anger bled away when he saw what Thor had prepared for him. The room was brightly lit with torches and the curtains were drawn back from the high windows, showing the sunset. A fire blazed in the hearth. A long table had been laid before it and laden with all his favorite foods, enough to feed him for a month, but more touching to Loki was the second table Thor had set up beside the first.

This one groaned beneath the weight of spellbooks of every kind.

"Eat and read, brother," Thor said gently, pushing him down into a chair and loading a trencher with food for him. "Feed your body and your mind together. You do not neglect your lady by taking care of yourself." He put the overfilled plate before Loki, then poured him a tankard of mead. "You must replenish your strength."

"Thank you, Thor," Loki said, catching his brother's arm and meeting his eyes to show he meant it.

Thor smiled. "Don't be too grateful. I truly was going to tie you down."

Loki tore through the food and the books with equal abandon. The mead wasn't his favorite drink, but right now he was thirsty enough to drink anything. When he finished his meal, only vaguely noting that he'd practically cleared the table, Thor gently but firmly took the thick book out of his hands. "Now you  _will_  sleep," he commanded, gripping Loki's arm and drawing him to the bedroom he'd shared too briefly with Taryn.

Loki struggled briefly, but sudden fatigue washed over him and made him sag in Thor's grip. He shot an incredulous glare at his brother.  _The mead…_  "You didn't," he accused.

Thor didn't look the least bit abashed. "A flavorless potion for dreamless sleep, brother. You need it," he said as though that excused drugging Loki's drink. Catching the outrage in Loki's glare, he shrugged. "I did warn you I was prepared to resort to underhanded methods."

He wasn't given the chance to argue further. The scent of her hit him as soon as Thor pushed Loki onto the bed. Loki managed to hold himself together while Thor divested him of his boots and dragged the covers over him, biting his lips to keep his emotions at bay until his brother finally departed. Only then did he bury his face in Taryn's pillow, breathing deep, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he imagined her there beside him.

And as oblivion claimed him with greedy claws, Loki held onto the memory of her laughing, smiling, vivid with life in faith that she would soon be so again.


	27. The Council Demands

When Loki awakened, the room was dark, but dawn was beginning to touch the Eastern sky with hues of rose and violet. The thin light from Asgard's close stars provided the only illumination as he threw back the blankets and rose from the bed. It was difficult not to dwell on how empty the room felt without Taryn here to share it with him. Loki had spent more than a thousand years waking up alone in here, but after a mere handful of weeks with his lady, doing so again felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly _wrong_.

Pushing the thought firmly away, Loki bathed and quickly dressed. He had never been able to stop his mind from working and didn't try, but he did direct it to the problem at hand. Thor had clearly grabbed all the books on magic he could find from the library, not knowing what he was looking for or even looking at. Loki needed to sort them, find those dealing with healing magic or curses, and [concentrate on](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7313745/27/Mirrors_and_Shadows) those which specifically covered ailments of the mind. Perhaps he could assign Eir and Frigga to help him read through them and search for anything that might help.

But when he stepped out of his rooms, Skuld was waiting for him. She bowed her head and clasped a fist to her heart. "My King, the High Council respectfully requests the honor of your presence," she said formally. "King Thor awaits you in the Throne Room."

Loki's first instinct was to tell the Valkyrie exactly what the High Council could do with their respectful request, but he squashed the urge with difficulty. After all, he was a king now. And from his earliest memories, Odin had drilled into both his sons' heads that a king must always put the needs of his kingdom before his own.

Besides, Taryn would expect him to do no less.

"Accompany me there, then," he said, keeping the sigh from his voice with an effort. While he was certain that this was indeed a matter of importance–a dawn meeting with both kings could be nothing less–this High Council meeting would set a record for brevity. He would ensure it. Then he could go where he truly was needed, to his lady's bedside, using all his power and skill to awaken her from her unnatural [sleep](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7313745/27/Mirrors_and_Shadows).

Skuld walked a pace behind him through the golden halls. Loki barely saw them. His feet led him unerringly to the Throne Room. Pausing only to don his horned helm, he nodded at the guards who opened the tall doors for him and saluted as he passed through.

Loki ascended the stairs to sit beside his brother, similarly helmeted and enthroned. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence so early in the day, Councillors?" he asked, and this time he couldn't quite keep the impatience from his tone.

Hadvar, the Supreme Councillor, bowed deeply before replying. "My Kings, we would not have interrupted you unless it was a matter of extreme and immediate importance."

"Yes, of course, Hadvar," Thor said, smiling with more grace than his brother had just displayed. It seemed that some of Loki's diplomatic skills had rubbed off on him, wonder of wonders. "Your concerns are the kingdom's concerns. Now that my brother and I are both present, you may present this urgent matter to us that we may deal with it accordingly."

Hadvar cleared his throat and, surprisingly, glanced to the councillors at his side before speaking again. They gave him encouraging little nods. Finally he met Loki's gaze, but only for an instant before again looking to Thor. "My Kings, we are come to discuss the matter of succession."

Thor frowned and Loki knew he must wear a similar look of puzzlement. After Jane and Taryn's attempted assassination, the brothers had decided to keep the news of Jane's pregnancy a secret–until they had rooted out the instigators of the attack, the brothers would do nothing to make her an even greater target. The same held true with Loki's betrothal to Taryn. Until she was awake again, such an announcement could only put her in more danger.

"My brother has only recently wed and I have no queen as yet. While we appreciate your concern, it seems a bit premature, and is hardly an emergency," Loki pointed out, chafing to be done with this and return to Taryn's sickbed.

"With respect, my King, we must disagree." This time it was Raloff who spoke. He'd served on the High Council almost as long as Hadvar and it was well known that Odin had anticipated he would take the post of Supreme Councillor when Hadvar stepped aside.

Ingrid, the only woman upon the three-person council, nodded. "King Loki has already blessed our land with children," she said, and the chill in her voice made it clear that she would rather have said  _cursed_. "All those with a claim must be considered."

Loki stiffened upon the throne as the warning the Nords had given him so many weeks ago echoed anew in his mind.  _Remember your acts of creation. For you are not the only one who does, son of two fathers._ Sleipnir, Jormungand, Fenrir, Hel… his children of magic, of sorcery, all of whom were alive and well.

"Surely you cannot be serious," Loki said with withering scorn. "You consider a stallion to have a legitimate claim as heir to the throne of Asgard? Sleipnir cannot even speak, unless you would consider  _neigh_  an answer to all requests."

Ingrid's icy gaze didn't waver from his. "Our concern is not for the animals, my King, though you have often named them your children," she said, and to her credit, she managed to speak politely this time. "No one would expect a stallion, nor a serpent or wolf, to take the throne."

"But Hel is neither animal nor mute," Hadvar continued. He was all but wringing his hands with anxiety.

Raloff nodded, his ancient grey eyes clouded with worry. "And as she already rules the kingdom that bears her name, it cannot be argued that she is unfit to hold a throne."

Loki stared at the trio for a long moment, his thoughts stuttering to a halt. His daughter on the throne of Asgard… much as he loved Hel, even he had to admit that would be a disaster. She hated the Æsir who had scorned and banished her, something for which he couldn't honestly blame her. If she were to take such a position of power over Asgard, she would bring it to ruin in revenge for all the slights she'd suffered at their hands.

Thor spoke as though realizing that his brother needed a moment to collect his thoughts. "It has always been custom in matters of succession that a trueborn child displaces any born out of wedlock. Why should that not be the case now? All that is needed is that my brother or I survive long enough to produce a trueborn heir. We are both young, virile, strong. Again, I do not see how this constitutes an emergency."

Hadvar sighed, a rare show of emotion from the elderly wise man. "My Kings, we have gone over the laws in detail, and the preference of trueborn over bastard-born does not apply in this case. King Loki produced Hel without aid of another parent, therefore she cannot be truly termed a bastard." His sad, anxious gaze flicked from king to king. "She is trueborn. Hel Lokadottir is heir to the throne of Asgard."

Loki's breath rushed out as though he'd been punched in the gut. Queen Hel of Asgard would turn the Realm Eternal into another black and cursed kingdom of the dead. It was a terrible thought. "Then it is done," he said, spreading his hands helplessly. "It appears all we can do is hope that my brother and I outlive her hatred of the Æsir." And that, he feared, would never happen.

"It is not so. With respect, you have another option." Raloff took a deep breath, then raised his chin as though steeling himself to take a blow. "You must disown your daughter, my King. Withdraw your name from her and–""

Loki went rigid upon his throne, fists clenching. "I  _must?_ " he hissed, green eyes flashing fire at the councillor's audacity. No one, _no one_  commanded Loki! "You dare stand before the throne and tell me I  _must_  disown my child?"

His fury made all three councillors lower their heads in respect. "Forgive me, my King," Raloff said, fear in every word. "We mean no offense."

"Offense was given, and it is only due to your age that I do not challenge you in order to cleanse it," Loki snarled.

But Thor reached out and clasped his forearm. "Withdraw, Council, for I would speak with my brother," he commanded. "But do not leave the chamber. Our business is not concluded and I will have you under my eye until this is settled."

"As the Kings command," they said, bowing, and silently walked to the far end of the large chamber, well out of earshot.

Loki murmured a muffling spell as well as one that obscured their forms, just in case the councillors held any thought of trying to read their lips. "I should have them all flogged for this," he growled, still icily, furiously angry. "To suggest–no, to  _demand_  such a thing of me!"

Thor sighed, hand still on his brother's arm. "Loki, do you not think they have the right of it?" he asked softly. When Loki shot a stunned, betrayed gaze at him, Thor held out his other hand in placation. "Brother, I like it no more than you do, and I know how you love your daughter. But even you must see that she must never rule over Asgard. Too much hatred lies between our kingdoms to ever join them thus."

Loki's anger slowly bled away. Thor was right, of course. The councillors were right. His own first thoughts when they'd told him Hel was the trueborn heir had even been of dismay. But to disown her… his name had been the only gift he'd been able to give her, the only thing she'd ever accepted from him. Taking it from her would be the final nail in the coffin of their strained relationship.

"Thor, if I do this thing, there will never be peace between us," he said quietly. His soft tone didn't fool his brother–Thor heard the pain in his voice. "For so many long years I have tried to mend the rift between us. How can I disown her and still convince her that I love her as a daughter?"

Thor hung his head. Silver light flashed off his winged helmet as he shook his head slowly. "I ache for you, brother," he said, lifting anguished blue eyes to meet Loki's gaze. "I truly do. But you know this as well as I–the kingdom must come first."

"Before friendship, before love, before family," Loki finished the phrase they had both heard Odin say so very often. He buried his face in his hands, utterly miserable. "I will go to Hel's realm," he finally said. Each word stabbed him with grief. "I will speak to her. Perhaps… perhaps I can explain, somehow make her understand. Perhaps she will agree to renounce her claim of her own will."

And perhaps lute-playing minotaurs would fly out of Thor's ass.

"Yes, brother. Your silver tongue could convince the sky it is the sea," Thor agreed, and Loki laughed bitterly. "Offer her boons, gifts. It may not be necessary to disown her at all."

As if any boon or gift could outweigh the chance to be revenged upon the realm that had done her so many wrongs. Loki knew that thirst too well to believe for an instant she would truly give up such a delicious opportunity, but he did not say so. "I will do what I must," he said heavily. "Hel will not take the throne, brother. Your child with Jane will be the next ruler of Asgard. My word upon it."

Thor squeezed his arm again, this time offering comfort. "You make an enormous sacrifice for Asgard, Loki," he murmured, and Loki looked up to see his brother's sad smile. "For me. I owe you so much already. I would do anything to repay all you have done for me."

 _The price of a brother's love…_  Loki forced a smile, knowing now that the loss of his child was what the Norns had referred to during their visit. And they were right–this was one price he truly wished he did not have to pay. "In turn I vow to remember your debt and find something very entertaining to do with it," he said, trying to lighten his brother's mournful mood. Such seriousness did not sit well on the golden son of Asgard's face.

Thor's smile lost some of its sadness. "Drop your spells, brother, and let us tell the interfering bastards of our decision." Loki did so, smirking at his brother's description, and Thor raised his booming voice. "Attend us, councillors."


	28. A Tongue So Slippery

The three advisors returned to the foot of the thrones and bowed as one. Loki smoothed all emotion from his face and looked each of them in the eye. "The council may be assured that the throne of Asgard will not fall to Hel. I will leave for her kingdom with all haste and meet with my daughter," he said, calling her  _daughter_  just to reinforce to the three that he might deny her in name, but never in his heart. "I will attempt to convince her to voluntarily renounce her claim to the throne. Unless there is no other option, I will not disown her."

Three sets of surprised eyes fixed on him. Loki stared them all down. "She is my child," he said firmly. "I will do what is needful for the good of Asgard, but she  _is_  my child."

Ingrid was the only one who did not look away. "My King, if you will indeed do what is needful for the good of Asgard, we have one more matter of concern to place before you."

Hadvar shot a glance sideways at her, naked [alarm](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7313745/28/Mirrors_and_Shadows) on his face now. "Perhaps this is not the time–" he began, but she cut him off.

"There will never  _be_  a right time, Hadvar," she said sharply.

"Yes, but the issue may resolve itself if–"

"And if it doesn't?"

Raloff watched them warily but did not speak. Loki, therefore, addressed him as the other two hissed their arguments at each other. "You will tell us of this other matter, Raloff," he commanded, his tone making it clear that his already limited patience was at its end and he would not take well to evasion or hesitation.

The councillor bowed again. "My Kings, the people cry out against having two queens not of this realm." To his credit, he did not try to dance around the issue. He met Loki's furious green gaze and said, "Forgive us if the observation is unwelcome, King Loki, but all have seen the affection you hold for the Midgardian woman Taryn Roswell."

"You do not have leave to address her so informally." Thor's voice was a low rumble of warning as he spoke before Loki had the chance to do so. "She is Lady Taryn, an honored guest of the royal household, and I would advise you most strongly to guard your tongue, Raloff. The Council have sorely tried our patience already this day."

Raloff covered his heart with both hands in a gesture of extreme apology. "I mean no disrespect to the lady," he said, his voice ringing with [sincerity](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7313745/28/Mirrors_and_Shadows). "Please, my Kings, forgive me if I have caused offense. I have heard nothing but praise of her intelligence and beauty, and I [pray](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7313745/28/Mirrors_and_Shadows) to the Norns daily that she may swiftly recover from her wounds."

When the other two didn't echo his words, Loki remembered Hadvar saying  _the issue may resolve itself_  and knew they were waiting, maybe even hoping, that Taryn would die of her wounds. Thor's hand clamped down on Loki's arm again in the next instant as he, too, clearly discerned the direction of their thoughts. "We all pray for that," Thor said, nearly growling the words, and all three councillors bowed as Hadvar and Ingrid made belated noises of agreement.

Thor's restraining grip was all that kept Loki silent in his seat. He wasn't sure he could open his mouth without cursing the trio into little piles of smoking dung. Thor, again, filled the silence. "I will remind the Grand Council that my brother has not yet chosen his queen," he said slowly and deliberately, "but when he is ready to do so, he is free to choose any lady his heart desires, as have I."

Ingrid raised her eyes and boldly looked from one king to the other. "All the Æsir were witness to your wedding feast, King Thor. All the Æsir saw the love between King Loki and the Lady Taryn. Forgive the presumption, but the announcement of a royal betrothal is considered a mere formality at this point. It is clear to all that King Loki's choice has already been made."

"And do not all the Æsir wish that I share the same happiness my beloved brother has found?" Loki's silken voice was as smooth as an assassin's blade.

Hadvar shot a desperate look at Ingrid, who visibly swallowed her reply. "Aye, my King, they do," he quickly said, looking fully aware that he was walking a fine line with every word and that nothing Ingrid had to say could possibly help. "But my King, they wish that such happiness should bless you from a different source. Queen Jane is a fine lady and we will hear no criticism of her–" he cast a careful glance at Thor when he said this, "–but she is of Midgard."

"My King, the people cry out for a queen of this realm," Ingrid said bluntly.

"Will this damned crown take from me everything I love? Will it leave me  _nothing?_ "

The whispered words fell on no ears but Thor's. The golden king looked at his brother in alarm. The Norns had warned that Loki might not want to pay the ultimate price, and Thor knew that this price was too dear. And truly, he would not ask for such a sacrifice from his brother. More than anyone Thor had ever known, Loki deserved the love of a devoted woman. He'd suffered too much–he deserved all the love he could get.

But instead of refusing outright, Thor watched as Loki's gaze turned thoughtful and his lips tightened. He knew that look. He'd seen it a thousand times, and always it meant his too-clever brother was plotting something that would not go well for someone.

Therefore, he remained silent, trusting in his brother as Loki raised a hand and rubbed a finger over the pattern of pale scars marring his lips. Scars, Thor abruptly remembered, from a punishment that had resulted from the recommendation of these same three councillors. "These cries of dismay you speak of," Loki mused as though merely wondering aloud, "would they happen to come from a particular source?"

Raloff, clearly eager to appease the king he'd twice offended, replied, "We hear only scattered rumors, but it appears that Lord Baldur has voiced concerns most often."

Loki nodded, now cool. He nodded to Skuld who still stood at the foot of the dais. "If you will please invite Lord Baldur to join us," he told the Valkyrie. "As one so interested in the queens of Asgard, he should be present for these deliberations. And Heimdall, please also join us," he added as though knowing the Guardian was watching. Skuld saluted and left to do his bidding.

Then Loki looked over at Thor. He was both reassured and a bit alarmed at the sparkle of mingled anger and mischief in those green eyes. "Brother, I had a thought for Mjolnir," he said lightly as the High Council fidgeted in confusion below them. Loki's sudden calm after his earlier anger had clearly left them unsettled. "The leather wrappings of the handle, they often grow slick with blood during battle, do they not?"

Thor raised an eyebrow. Did Loki really mean to chat about inconsequentials now? But he went along with it. "Indeed it does."

"Yes, I seem to recall you complaining of how the leather absorbs the offal of your slain enemies and makes it difficult to grip." Loki tapped his chin as though thinking. "But I could enchant some leather for you and rewrap the handle. I'm sure I have the perfect spell in mind to prevent the loss of traction no matter how bloody the battle. Would you like that?"

Thor spared a glance and saw that all three councillors, none of them known as valiant warriors, looked a bit green at this talk of copious blood. It was all he could do not to smirk. Petty, perhaps, but it still delighted Thor that Loki could get little snippets of revenge in such ways. "What about brains, brother?" he asked earnestly, and saw the amusement in Loki's eyes. "They are so very slick."

They chatted unconcernedly about the gore of battle until Skuld escorted Baldur into the Throne Room. Sif and the Warriors Three accompanied the Valkyrie and the God of Light. A moment later, Heimdall also entered the throne room.

"I come at once to your command, my King," Baldur said as though he'd been given a choice in the matter, stopping beside the High Council and bowing. Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg stepped between him and the kings, fixing him with implacable gazes, nothing subtle at all about their distrust.

"Don't you mean  _Kings_?" Loki asked silkily.

Baldur mimed dismay. "Of course, of course," he said with a contrite bow. "A mere slip of the tongue. I beg Your Majesty's pardon."

Loki smiled. "Certainly. A tongue as slippery as yours must often find itself begging pardon." Baldur's eyes flashed with anger but he remained silent as Loki stood. "Good Heimdall, thank you for coming," he said as the Gatekeeper drew his sword in a warrior's salute. "I would have you witness an oath, if you are willing."

"I live to serve Asgard and her kings," Heimdall replied in his deep, sonorous voice. "It will be my honor to serve as your oath-keeper."

Loki gave him a little nod before looking down at the group standing before the thrones. "We have been told of the people's concern that I might wed Lady Taryn of Midgard," he said, and Thor saw Baldur's sudden dismay. Apparently he hadn't been aware that the Council knew who was stirring up the unrest. "I offer you a chance to right your wrongs, Baldur, if you are not amiss to Heimdall as oath-keeper."

"None doubt the honor of Heimdall," Baldur replied–a prudent reply with the enormous warrior standing beside him, naked blade in hand. "What oath would you ask of me, my King?"

Loki straightened and held Baldur's blue eyes unblinkingly. "You will immediately cease your machinations against Queen Jane and Lady Taryn," he said, his voice still mild, "and you will fully renounce all activities against myself and the throne of Asgard. Your oath upon it, now, before these witnesses."

Baldur held his gaze longer than Thor would've believed possible, and he didn't even bother denying the charges. Did this mean that he was behind the attack that had almost killed Thor's wife and child and had left Taryn in a coma so deep the healers weren't sure she'd ever recover? Thor had to clench his fists to stop himself from charging the bastard and beating the answers out of him. He was certain Loki had a plan, and he probably wouldn't take well to Thor ruining it with his own anger.

But the restraint was difficult. By the Norns, it was difficult.

"And what does my King propose to pledge in return?" Baldur finally asked, as cool and casual as the God of Trickery.

"Be assured that I need give nothing. The gift of walking away untortured should be enough," Loki replied coldly. When Baldur's eyes widened in alarm that he couldn't quite hide, Loki smiled. "However, none could name Loki so unreasonable. In return for your pledge, I shall vow to place a queen of this realm upon Asgard's throne," Loki continued, and Thor came to his feet in one convulsive movement.

"Loki,  _no_ ," he protested, and Loki glanced at him for the briefest moment. He saw nothing in his brother's green eyes–no silent message, no reassurances, no promise of a clever plan. Only a determination so cold it frightened him.

Then the dark king's attention returned fully to Baldur, who was clearly suspicious. "You will truly agree to such a thing?" he asked doubtfully. "You have placed your symbol around the Midgardian woman's neck, and she wears your color and shares your bed. All have seen the love you bear her."

Loki's gaze didn't falter. "It is not in dispute."

"Yet you will pass her over and put another on the throne?" Now his tone held frank disbelief. "If you'll forgive me, my King, I don't believe you. All know how easily you worm your way out of vows–"

The slap of Mjolnir's handle in Thor's hand was loud in the enormous room as it responded to his surge of anger. "My brother does not break his word," Thor growled, unable to mutely allow this slander. Truly, Loki would have had so much less trouble if he  _did_  break his vows, but once he gave his word, he kept it, no matter what. The four warriors also shifted angrily and laid hands to the hilts of their weapons. "Have a care, Lord Baldur. Your words verge on treason."

Loki held up a hand and Thor stopped, but it was difficult. "Break my vow with Heimdall as the oath-keeper? I think not," he said mildly. He lifted his chin and looked down at the furious god. "But you may approve the wording of my oath if that pleases you."

"It does," Baldur said, still suspicious.

"Very well. I, Loki Odinsson, King of the Æsir, do swear by my life and crown that the next queen of Asgard shall be a woman raised in the Realm Eternal, not Midgard," Loki said, holding Baldur's furious gaze the entire time. "She shall be a woman of royal blood and I shall give her the crown and throne I intended for Taryn Roswell."

Baldur was clearly thinking fast, trying to find the loopholes. "She will not  _be_  Taryn Roswell," he said, even though Taryn quite obviously didn't meet any of the requirements Loki had named. "And you will wed her, and you will not keep from her bed in favor of having the Midgardian woman as your mistress."

"She will not be Taryn Roswell, nor will I have Taryn as a mistress," Loki agreed, and ignored Thor when he again whispered in dismay, "Brother, no, don't do this, I beg of you."

Loki glanced at him once more. "The kingdom must come first, Thor," he said calmly. Then he met Baldur's gaze again. "I pledge to be true to her, to honor and keep all my vows to her, and yes, I will sleep with her as one flesh. Does that satisfy you, Baldur?"

Baldur looked between them, saw the genuine anguish on Thor's face, the cold determination on Loki's, and finally nodded. "Very well," he said, and now there was triumph in his eyes and his voice. "I accept your vow, King of the Æsir. In return, I vow upon my life and honor to abstain from all speech or activities against yourself, King Thor, Queen Jane, and the Midgardian Taryn Roswell, nor will I work against the throne of Asgard ever again. From this moment on, I will be a true and faithful servant of the crown until the end of my days. Does that satisfy you, King Loki?"

Loki's green eyes burned with a triumph all his own. Thor frowned to see it–his brother had just sacrificed his own heart in return for one man's loyalty, and he was pleased with the trade? Thor was beginning to seriously doubt his brother's sanity. "It does," Loki agreed. He looked over to Heimdall. "Gatekeeper, do you witness these vows, and will you watch between us and punish any who fail to faithfully uphold them?"

"Aye, my King, I do so witness your vows," Heimdall said, and Thor thought he even saw an echo of his own confusion in those bright golden eyes. "Should either break these vows, I will deal a swift death upon him."

.


	29. The Queen of the Æsir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I just noticed that I'd been updating on Fanfiction and not keeping up here! But hey, at least I left it at a good cliffie, right? ;)

"Very well." Loki turned to Thor and smiled at his horror. "How forgetful you are, brother," he murmured, and Thor just had time to see Baldur's victorious smile turn suddenly doubtful before Loki was enveloped in a green haze.

When it parted, Loki still stood before them…  _as a woman._

Thor stared for a moment. Then he recalled the Norns' words– _the Queen of the Æsir shall surprise all_ –and Thor started to laugh. Loki's vow replayed in his mind, every word, and he laughed harder. Loki lifted one elegant hand, removed the now too-large helmet and handed it wordlessly to Thor, then took up the horned tiara from Taryn's unused throne. She placed it upon her own head and smiled down at Baldur.

"Behold your queen, Lord Baldur, good Council, dear friends," Loki said pleasantly, sitting upon Taryn's throne. Thor laughed and laughed until he collapsed onto his own throne, crying tears of mirth. Sif and the Warriors Three gaped as Baldur, enraged, argued with Heimdall that this was oath-breaking,  _how_  could the Gatekeeper not see that this was oath-breaking?

"Queen Loki has kept exactly to the vow," Heimdall said, the only one in the room who was outwardly unruffled by this new trick of Loki's–for it wasn't new, and it was one that he, as well as Thor, had seen many times before, even if Thor had forgotten it. "Loki was raised in the Realm Eternal, is of royal blood, has now taken the crown and throne intended for Taryn Roswell, and is not Taryn Roswell."

"And is not a  _woman!"_  Baldur shouted, furious. "A mere illusion cannot turn a king into a queen. I will not be mocked by the magician's trickery!"

Loki spread her arms and faced Heimdall. "You see all, Gatekeeper."

Heimdall turned his golden gaze on her for a moment before looking back to Baldur. "It is no trickery, Lord Baldur," he said calmly. "Loki is female to the marrow of her bones. This is not an illusion."

That made the Council go pale, but Baldur wasn't giving up so easily. He was practically vibrating with fury. "But–but–he can't wed himself!" he spluttered, determined to find the flaw in Loki's plan.

"I vowed that the queen and I would be one flesh, not that I would wed her," Loki pointed out as she unconcernedly examined her green-lacquered nails. "I will honor and keep all vows I make to myself–well, clearly, there is nothing to gain from breaking my word there. Nor will I keep from the queen's bed, as it is actually my own." She smiled at the enraged God of Light, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. "I assure you, my dear Lord Baldur, I plan to sleep with the queen every night."

Baldur looked ready to kill as he went over the words of Loki's vow in his mind and found no way they had been violated. Thor wiped tears from his cheeks and caught the brief look of utterly wicked delight his brother–no, his  _sister_ –sent him from the corner of her eye.

"You are slippery as an eel, Loki, and twice as difficult to pin down," Thor whispered so the arguing group before their thrones would not hear.

"I am holding exactly to what I promised," Loki protested, but the smile on her lips belied her pretended offense.

"You may have twisted and bent your vow to deprive your people of the Æsir queen they yearn for," Baldur growled, voice rising furiously, "but you shall still not have the Roswell woman despite your trickery!"

Baldur's shout finally succeeded in cutting off Thor's laughter. He leaned forward, hand tightening on Mjolnir's handle, but Loki didn't appear concerned. Baldur frowned at her lack of reaction. "You can't wed her as a woman, and your own vow prevents you from taking her as your mistress," he said triumphantly. "You may have made a fool out of me, but at least you won't have the Midgardian whore whispering in your ear any longer!"

There was a loud crack and Baldur was suddenly clawing at the whip wrapped around his throat. Loki held the handle in one delicate, long-fingered hand, and yanked Baldur to his knees with the flick of her wrist. He gasped for air. "You made yourself the fool, and I do believe that counts as speaking against Lady Taryn."

Loki came gracefully to her feet and stared down at him with cold hatred. Now her words were measured, calm, ringing strongly through the hall. "Baldur Pholsson, I name you  _nithing_ , oath-breaker, no warrior and no man. You are a weakling and a coward, hiding behind others and plotting against defenseless women. You have dishonored Asgard itself by your actions against a guest of the royal house. Name the time and place for holmgang and make your peace with eternity before meeting me, for I  _will_  have your head for these crimes."

That silenced the room utterly. The ritual duel called holmgang was not something called lightly, but suddenly Thor knew that everything Loki had done had been leading up to this. Her challenge hanging in the air, Loki uncurled the whip from its strangling hold around Baldur's neck with a twitch of her hand, allowing him to gasp in enough air to respond.

Baldur coughed, gagged, rasped in one breath, and then spat on the floor at Loki's feet. As one, Sif and the Warriors Three drew their weapons at the insult, but Loki halted them with a raised hand. The red lash of the whip was vivid on Baldur's golden skin. Thor saw Loki's gaze catch on it, the shine of satisfaction in her expression.

Baldur saw it too and his clear fury grew still further. "You call me coward and accuse me of attacking women, only to challenge me to fight you  _now_?" Baldur snarled, casting a scathing glance over Loki's feminine form.

Loki smiled, and it was sharp and cold as a thrown blade. "Ahh, woman I may be, but never defenseless," she purred. "I understand if that is not to your tastes. Name the time or be outlaw; my patience is not unlimited."

Baldur glared hatred at Loki, who remained utterly unmoved by his rage. If anything, this only infuriated Baldur more. "Three days in the Great Courtyard at sunrise," he finally growled, "so that all may see you fall,  _seiðmaðr_. At least name a worthy second so I can have a real fight once I finish with you."

Loki didn't seem particularly terrified at the prospect of falling to Baldur's blade. She looked down at smiled at Sif. "My dear Lady Sif, would you do me the honor of standing as my second?"

Sif returned the smile–all teeth, like a wolf. She clasped a fist to her chest immediately. "The honor is mine, my Queen," she said, and turned murderous eyes on Baldur.

He looked ready to explode with fury and humiliation.  _"Two women?"_  he spat. "You mock my skill as a warrior, Serpent-tongue, but come the day's end, I will be the one laughing."

Loki waved a hand dismissively, and the clear boredom on her face made Baldur grind his teeth so hard it could be heard across the hall. Without waiting for Thor or Loki to grant him leave, Baldur spun on his heel and strode out of the hall. "Good Gatekeeper, do keep a close eye on Baldur for us," Loki said, glancing at Heimdall. "We would hate for him to miss our appointment."

Heimdall, sword still out, turned his golden gaze on Baldur's retreating back. "He will not slip my watch," he promised, then followed him out.

Then Loki cast a withering look at the High Council, all of whom were staring at her in shock. Ingrid in particular looked like she'd swallowed a lemon. Loki carefully and deliberately coiled her whip before breaking the brittle silence. "Does the esteemed Grand Council have any further  _demands_  they would have us address today?" Loki asked pleasantly.

Hadvar bowed deeply. "My Kings– _ahh_ –forgive me, I mean my King and my Queen, we have trespassed enough upon your time and patience," he said before Ingrid could find her voice. He, at least, had obviously learned what happened when they attempted to control Loki. "Your Majesties have been most gracious."

Thor stepped forward until he was shoulder to shoulder with Loki. "Then we're done here," he said flatly. "Leave us." Bowing once more, the Grand Council complied.

A moment later, only he and Loki remained in the enormous throne room. "You did that purposefully," Thor said quietly, looking down at his br–his sister as she sat down upon Taryn's throne again. "You knew Baldur was behind the attack on Jane and Taryn, but instead of exposing his guilt, you provoked him until he gave you an excuse to call for holmgang. Do you deny it?"

Loki shrugged. "Of course not. The justice system is so long and tedious," she replied. "This way, we get our revenge much more swiftly. Do you have complaints, dear brother?"

Thor shook his head at once, and Loki smiled at that. "Well, just one," Thor amended. When Loki raised an eyebrow, he said, "You do know our mother made him immortal, don't you? No weapon of war will prevail against him; nothing in all the Realms will harm him."

Loki's smile didn't falter. "Haven't you learned yet?" she teased, shaking her head as though disappointed in him. "Brother, I do nothing impulsively. Trust me."

"I do," Thor said quietly. Then he sighed, remembering that vow. "But just because Baldur broke his oath does not release you from yours. Loki, Loki, woman or not, you should never have vowed to forsake your beloved."

But Loki's smile still remained, lips curving lightly as though her heart wasn't broken at all. "Thor, did you not notice that while Baldur foolishly made his vows for life, I never specified a time limit? Taking the Queen's throne now does nothing to preclude me from resuming my male form and taking Taryn to wife in the future," she pointed out, and this time when Thor laughed, she joined in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOKI DOES WHAT S/HE WANTS, BITCHES! Because that is just how s/he rolls.
> 
> (PS, Phol is an ancient name for Baldur. In the original Norse mythology, he is actually a son of Odin, but I just couldn't go there-we're going with Marvel in this instance, where Loki and Thor are the only Odinssons.)


	30. Son and Daughter

Jane frowned as she walked through the palace, searching for her husband and brother-in-law. Waking up without Thor's strong arms around her was almost unheard of for Jane now and she found she didn't like it one bit. They weren't in the healing room with Taryn, they weren't waiting for her and Frigga to join them at breakfast, they weren't in Loki's chambers or in the library or at the practice fields.

Not being able to find him had to rank up there as number two on her list of things she deeply disliked, right behind waking up alone.

Jane turned a corner and almost slammed into an infuriated Baldur. "Out of my way," he snarled, raising a hand as though to [shove](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7313745/30/Mirrors-and-Shadows) her away from him while she gaped in disbelief.

" _Baldur_. I am watching."

Heimdall's dark, rumbling voice behind Baldur made the God of Light hesitate, and Jane used the opportunity to step back out of his path even though technically as queen,  _he_  should have been the one giving way to  _her_. Queen or not, she had no intention of getting knocked over by a pissed-off Æsir warrior. She had the baby to consider, and that was always going to rank higher than her pride.

Baldur clenched his fists and strode away, almost visibly steaming with rage. Heimdall followed, stopping to bow to Jane. "You are unhurt, my Queen?" the Gatekeeper asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, giving the enormous man a grateful smile. "Thanks to you. He looked like he really wanted to flatten me."

To her shock, Heimdall actually  _smiled_  at that–a genuine smile! "His temper was sorely taxed by Loki at this morning's Grand Council," he explained. Then he bowed. "Forgive me, my Queen, but I must return to my post. I wish you all blessings on your day."

"And you, Gatekeeper," Jane replied formally, then hurried toward the Throne Room, finally knowing where to find her husband.

The sound of Thor's hearty laughter greeted her the instant the guards opened the massive doors for her. Jane started to sigh with relief, but what she heard next froze her in confusion–the unmistakable, sultry laughter of a woman.

Her puzzlement took a backseat to complete and utter shock when she saw the sable-haired beauty sitting beside Thor upon the dais.

Why was Thor laughing it up alone in the Throne Room with a woman? A woman Jane had never seen before who was incidentally wearing Taryn's crown and sitting on Taryn's throne? And where the hell was Loki? If he saw this, he'd probably explode from sheer rage!

The woman looked up, caught Jane's eye, and shockingly smiled. "Ahh, Jane, so good of you to join us," she said genially as though she knew Jane well, but Jane was positive she'd never met this woman before.

"Thor?" Jane said, climbing the steps toward her husband without taking her eyes off the strange woman, "who is this person?"

Thor laughed again and took her hand. "Look closely, my love," he replied.

Jane raised an eyebrow at him–could he not simply answer her?–but then did as he said. Now that he mentioned it, the woman did look familiar. Those high cheekbones, the arching black brows, the straight, aristocratic line of her nose, the intelligent, amused, mischievous green eyes–

–Jane only knew one person who had eyes like that.

"Loki?" she gasped, and Loki smiled and inclined her head.

"Well done, sister," she said warmly.

"Loki?" Jane couldn't seem to make her lips form any other words.  _"Loki?"_

Loki laughed, and after a moment, Thor joined in. Then Loki stood, moving with an effortless grace and elegance that made Jane instantly jealous, as well as reminding her of how he'd moved in his male form. No matter what gender he–she?–wore, Loki moved like a breeze over water, smooth, lithe, like a dancer… or perhaps an assassin. "I will leave the explanations to you, brother," Loki said, inclining her head to Jane. "I need to return to the healing room."

Thor's smile dimmed. "At least join us to break your fast," he protested, but Loki was already shaking her head.

"I need to be there," she declined, and while her smile remained and her tone was still pleasant, Jane could hear the devastation underlying her tone. More than anything else, that finally convinced Jane that this woman truly was Loki. She took her leave of them, skirts whispering behind her as she exited the Throne Room.

Jane finally managed to scrape her scattered mind together. "Okay, would you care to explain why Loki's suddenly a woman?" she asked, staring up at Thor. "Because that was no cross-dressing trick. He is totally a she now! How is that even possible?"

Thor chuckled again and wrapped one massive arm around her still-tiny waist. "First things first," he said, and pulled her close for a deep and passionate good-morning kiss. Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed into his mouth. The sparks that had flown and curled her toes the first time she'd ever kissed him had been all the proof she'd needed that he was a god, and his kisses only kept getting better and better.

"Mmm, that's more like it," he murmured when he finally broke away, both of them breathless. Jane smiled, knowing her cheeks were flushed with passion and her lips were red from his kisses, and the satisfaction and fire in his blue eyes were almost enough to tempt her to push him down on his throne and have her wicked way with him. Maybe someday, she promised herself, but not yet. Not until she figured out how to lock those big doors, anyway.

… oh, the hell with it. Jane buried both hands in his hair and dragged him back down–not that it took much dragging–and kissed him until she was so dizzy that the only thing keeping her on her feet was his embrace. "No,  _that's_  more like it," she whispered against his lips.

Thor growled in agreement but to her disappointment, he pulled away. "Breakfast," he said, sounding as though he was reminding himself as much as her. "Mother will be waiting."

"Yes, she is," Jane confirmed, because she'd seen Frigga in the dining room during her search for Thor. "You can explain the whole lady-Loki thing to me on the way."

But Thor didn't. Instead, he waited until they were closed away in the private dining room with Frigga before he spoke again, and to Jane's frustration, he addressed his mother, not her. "Loki is female again, Mother. I'm not sure how long it'll last this time."

Frigga sighed. "What's provoked her now?" she asked, and Jane's eyebrows rose at the goddess's easy acceptance of this news.

"Have I missed a memo?" Jane asked, hands clenched around her coffee mug–one Midgardian tradition neither she nor Taryn had been willing to give up. "Why am I the only one shocked by this? Do all Æsir do this gender-swapping thing?"

Frigga laughed and reached over to pat her on the arm. "No, dear," she reassured the scientist. "Loki is utterly unique in this regard."

"Well, that's good," Jane said with relief. "I'd hate to wake up and find out my husband is now my wife. I'm totally in favor of gay marriage, but I rather like mine as it is."

Thor laughed and grinned at Frigga. "Do you remember the first time you found that your son was suddenly your daughter?"

Frigga nodded, smiling still. "I still haven't completely gotten over the shock."

Thor finally took a hint when Jane kicked his ankle, hard, and he explained. "Loki is more than a master magician," he told her. "He has an affinity for magic that is impossible for me to understand–even more so than the most skilled Æsir mages. It runs through his veins, saturates his very bones. Loki  _is_  magic, to a degree unimaginable to an Æsir."

"It is his Jötunn ancestry," Frigga agreed, just a hint of sadness clouding her eyes now. She pushed it aside and went on. "The Jötnar have always had the most skilled mages, the greatest abilities of magic. They are the lords of the arcane arts. And as they have evolved to become closer and closer to those powers, it wrought physical changes as well as mental and spiritual ones."

"In what way?" Jane asked, her scientific mind already fascinated with the possibilities.

"They are intersex," Frigga replied. When Jane frowned, she added, "Neither male nor female-or rather, both, as it suits them."

"Um. How?" Jane put down her coffee mug before she could spill it. Earth-shaking revelations aside, it was difficult to get a decent up of coffee in Asgard–the cooks were still figuring out how to brew it properly–and they'd done well this morning. She wasn't about to waste a drop. "I refuse to believe that storks fly all the way to Jötunnheim to deliver baby frost giants, and complex organisms can't rely on asexual reproduction without losing their genetic diversity."

Thor shrugged, letting both ancient superstition and modern science go over his head without blinking. "They are whatever gender they choose to be," he explained. "The male form is preferable for most situations, and for that reason, female Jötnar are very rarely seen by outsiders, although it is rumored they are very beautiful. The males are stronger, tougher, more readily able to fight and defend themselves and their families. Jötunnheim is a cruel, cold land. From what we know of them, which admittedly is not much, most Jötnar only assume the female form when they wish to bear a child and immediately return to their male form after the birth."

"The children, however, switch between genders freely," Frigga said. She smiled at a memory. "I do remember the first time Loki changed, Thor. Odin hadn't prepared me for that. I thought I was losing my mind when I began to change my son's diaper and didn't find what should've been there."

Thor laughed. "I can just imagine Father's face when presented with a son who changed into a daughter at will," he chuckled. He glanced down at Jane again. "You know, Jane, that Mother is not only the Goddess of Marriage. She is also known as the Goddess of Motherhood because she sent our nurse away and cared for Loki and I herself–an unprecedented act for a queen. Only later did I realize she did it to protect Loki from scorn. If anyone had known what he could do…" He shook his head, unable to find words, but Jane understood.

Asgard was an utterly male-centric culture. In all things, males were considered superior to females. The Æsir valued bravery and prowess in battle above all else–and since their women did not fight, apart from Sif and the Valkyries who were in a class of their own, women were automatically  _less_  than the weakest of their male counterparts. Also, it didn't help that to be taken sexually was the ultimate defeat. It was considered that women were made to be so used, but even so, it was a sign of weakness.

With that in mind, Jane couldn't imagine what Loki would've suffered had it become common knowledge that he could and did change genders at will. For a male to choose the weaker form was unthinkable–why would a male, born superior, deliberately become a female? Had Loki's strange ability become known to the Æsir, not only would he–or she–have been endlessly tormented and mocked, shame would have fallen on the house of Odin and even on the throne of Asgard.

It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. But that was how Asgard had been since time beyond memory. Jane, who had worked so hard on Earth and had risen to the top of her field by the virtue of her brilliance, who had proven herself equal–no,  _superior_ –to any man in her field, the Æsir attitude toward women was deeply offensive. Hopefully Jane and Taryn and Sif, as well as Frigga and the Valkyries, could begin to change that entrenched misogynistic mindset, but it would take time.

Frigga's smiled had faded now, too, as though she were sharing some of Jane's thoughts. "We protected Loki," she said, meeting Jane's eyes steadily, and the scientist knew she'd seen some of her disquiet there. "It was always about protecting our child, Jane. We never wanted Loki to be ashamed of what he was, what he could do, and especially for what he could not control."

Thor smiled. "I remember how you would punish me if I didn't address Loki correctly," he said, and Frigga laughed and shook her head.

"You were stubborn," she sighed. "You wanted a brother, not a sister. And when Loki was your sister, you wanted to still call her brother, no matter how angry it made her."

"And no matter how many times you made me fetch Loki flowers or braid her hair in punishment for it," Thor laughed.

Jane snorted at the mental image–a young Thor, already strapping and laden with a warrior's pride, sullenly plucking flowers to apologize to a frustrating sibling who kept changing into the wrong sex.

"I had to teach you to respect Loki's choices, whatever they were," Frigga said sternly, but she was smiling, too. "You were so stubborn, my son. I despaired of ever getting through to you."

At that, Thor's smiles faded. "It was no punishment that did that. It was the day that Father decided Loki was old enough to understand and spoke to him about it," Thor said. He wasn't looking at Jane or his mother now, but staring out the window at a panorama of memory that only he could see. "Father told him that he could be male or female, but he needed to choose one gender and stay with it, because the Æsir could not change as Loki could and would be jealous."

He met Jane's gaze, his own a little sad. "And Loki understood, all right–he understood that what he did was considered unnatural, and that Father was lying about why he wanted Loki to stop it. He was so very upset when he returned to our room, I had the devil of a time making him even talk to me about what Father had said. I never wanted to cause him as much pain as Father had. When Loki finally calmed, he chose to be my brother, and my brother he has remained for all these years." He sighed and shook his head. "Truly, I had almost forgotten that he could change in this way."

Jane lifted her coffee, sipped, then put the mug back down, thinking. Finally, she came to the only conclusion that made sense. "So now I've got a sister-in-law instead of a brother-in-law," she said calmly. "That's fine with me. Loki's always been one-of-a-kind anyway."

Both Thor and Frigga looked shocked at her easy acceptance, and Jane frowned at them. Well, really, had they expected her to reject Loki just because he was a bit more magical than she'd ever suspected? They probably had, she abruptly realized–any Æsir woman would have done so. "I'm not as narrow-minded as the Æsir," she blurted aloud, not really meaning to, and blushed when the words came out loud in the quiet room.

Frigga's hand was warm when she squeezed Jane's fingers affectionately. "You are a treasure," she said, making Jane blush hotter. "Now eat. You need to feed my grandchild."

But Jane hesitated before reaching for a breakfast roll. "What will happen to Loki now?" she asked, worrying. "Will he be seen as weak since he chose to wear his female form again?"

"She," Frigga corrected gently. She smiled. "Don't make me force you to bring her flowers."

" _Her_  female form," Jane said, but she wasn't going to be sidetracked. This was too important. She locked eyes with Thor, giving her husband the stare that he knew meant that he'd better answer her straight. "So, what's going to happen? Is she going to be in danger because of this?" Finally, hating the words even as they passed her lips, Jane asked, "Should we try to persuade her to turn back into a man again?"

Thor frowned, absently stroking Jane's hair. "Whatever comes Loki's way, she can handle, believe me," he said, but it was clear that he was thinking hard. Finally he sighed. "We cannot draw the bounds of Loki's pride, my love. She is doing this for a purpose, to make a point to Baldur and even to the Grand Council. Only when she decides that she has accomplished her purpose will she change back. No amount of reasoning will change her mind. This much, I have learned," he added with a rueful shake of his head.

"The best thing we can do," Frigga agreed, "is to support her. Accept her, as you have done. And whatever comes her way, we will face it as a united front."

Jane nodded, warmth spreading in her chest at the sound of it. "A united front," she repeated, liking the sound of the words. Liking how they drew her in and held her close in the warmth of this extraordinary group of people.

"As a family," Thor said, and Jane leaned against him. Despite the weirdness that her life had become since marrying the God of Thunder, she suddenly felt like the luckiest woman in all the nine realms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The intersex-Jotun thing seems to be fanfic cannon and I have no idea who thought it up originally. I'm not claiming it's mine, just abusing it for my own ends, and will gladly give credit where it's due if anyone knows the originator.


	31. Beautiful Chaos

_Three days in the Great Courtyard at sunrise…_

The appointed time of the holmgang pressed upon Loki's consciousness like a stone. Those three days seemed an eternity. She quite literally ached to take her revenge on Baldur, and each moment spent in fruitless attempts to heal Taryn only made that burning need grow.

And, frustratingly, there had been many such moments. Loki had spent every free instant in the Healing Room with Taryn, attempting new magicks or brewing different potions in attempts to awaken her, but all of it to no avail. Eir and Frigga exhausted themselves for hours in researching poisons and curses, Thor offered to go to the Norns–a desperate act Loki refused to allow–and even Jane tried to help by contacting her scientist friends in SHIELD. Still, nothing seemed to make the slightest difference in Taryn's condition–spells and medicines, science or prayers, all were equally ineffective. The only change was that she grew thinner, more wan, her breaths shallower and her skin growing colder by the hour despite the furs tucked around her and the fires Loki kept blazing.

She was fading before Loki's eyes. And nothing any of them did made a damn bit of difference.

The Norns' visit plagued Loki, refusing to allow her to rest even when Thor forced her out of the Healing Room for a few hours every night. She turned every word over in her mind, trying to find hidden meanings in each phrase, every expression. Surely there had to be something–! But she did not allow herself to be tempted by Thor's offer to consult them. The Norns gave nothing without payment–they would demand something precious from the golden king to answer his question. Loki couldn't live with herself if her brother was maimed to find a cure for Taryn.

No, if the Norns were the only hope Taryn had, Loki would be the one to barter for her life and no one else.

And it began to seem that this would indeed be the case. Loki quietly made her plans, knowing that Thor and Frigga would fight her going. Only the need to have her revenge upon Baldur kept Loki from going to the three seers at once. If they demanded her life, at least Loki could go to her grave knowing she'd avenged the wrong done to Taryn.

The day before the holmgang, Loki sat alone at Taryn's bedside, cradling her cold hand in her own after sending the healers and the guards away. Loki stroked the dull hair off her forehead and tried not to notice how her fingers trembled at the task. She bent and kissed each of Taryn's closed, pale eyelids gently.

"I will kill Baldur for doing this to you," Loki whispered, cupping a sunken cheek in her free hand, squeezing Taryn's fingers gently in the other. "I wish his death would return your life. I… I don't know what else to do, my lady. I don't know what to do." And as if that admission was the first crack in a dam, the tears finally came–always so much easier in this form–falling from Loki's cheeks to splash onto Taryn's.

"Don't die," she whispered, pleading lost and broken, pressing her forehead to Taryn's in a gesture both familiar and heartrending. "Don't die. Don't leave me." She wept in silence, wept for all the things her heart ached for–wishing she could have Taryn's advice on how to deal with the Council, on Hel, on Baldur and a thousand other things, but most of all, Loki wept, aching, for the need to see her warm brown eyes vibrant with laughter again.

Finally Loki straightened, wiping her tears off Taryn's skin so gently before taking care of those on her own cheeks. "I must speak to Hel. I will not be gone long," she murmured, trying to find her equilibrium before making the journey to Helheimr. She lifted Taryn's limp hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Be here when I return, my lady. Please."

The lack of reply broke her heart anew. Bowing her head for a long moment, Loki finally sighed and carefully tucked Taryn's hand back beneath the furs.

Then, putting her heartbreak aside, Loki left the Healing Room and made her way to the Bifrost.

The Gatekeeper of the Gods stood, ever ready, before the rebuilt chamber. He bowed when Loki dismounted before him. "My Queen," he said, deep voice resonant as the crashing seas below them. "How may I serve you?"

"I would speak with my daughter," Loki said, and the enormous warrior inclined his head before turning and entering the golden dome.

Loki entered the Bifrost Chamber behind Heimdall, shimmering magic dancing over his clothing as he reassumed his male form once more–dealing with Hel was hard enough, and attempting to explain the change in genders would only make it more so. The Gatekeeper raised a silent eyebrow at the shift. "Just for a bit," Loki said, speaking when he didn't need to do so, explaining what hadn't been questioned, and knew he was betraying his own nervousness. "I trust in your discretion, good Heimdall. I have not finished teaching the Grand Council a lesson quite yet."

Heimdall bowed once more. "I see many things which are never spoken, my King."

Loki's attention briefly caught on that sentence, but he let it go. Right now he couldn't afford the distraction. "Send me to Helheimr, then," he said, and let the Bifrost take him.

The flashing, searing hues of the Bifrost dazzled Loki's eyes. It took him a moment to adjust to the darkness of Helheimr when the rainbow bridge released him. When his eyes focused again, Loki smiled up at Garm. The enormous creature only looked like a dog. Like Loki himself, the Guardian of Hel was much more than the skin he wore. "Greetings, Garm. I have come to see my daughter, your mistress. Will she receive me?"

The twelve-foot tall mastiff growled, but when Loki's calm smile didn't falter, his hackles lowered and he sat. "She will," Garm replied gruffly. "Enter, King of the Æsir."

"Thank you," Loki replied, inclining his head, for it always paid to be polite to things that could bite his head off.

But once he passed between the huge iron gates of Hel's throne room, Loki's confidence and his smile faded. How he hated this realm–the darkness, the cold, the dust and decay, the utter bleakness of it all. This was no place for his child to grow up. He hated that he hadn't been able to spare her from this, and hated Odin more than ever for inflicting it upon her.

"You cast such a dismayed eye over my realm, King of the Æsir." Hel's voice, mocking, cutting from the darkness. "It must be an important matter indeed to drive you to visit that which you so despise."

Loki looked up as twin torches ignited to either side of his daughter's throne. As hideous as ever, Hel sat easily in the throne constructed specially for her twisted form. As always, Loki saw not her imperfections, but those things that reflected him in her–the glossy, black hair, the burning red eyes, the shape of her nose and the sneering curl to her lips. "Cannot a father wish to visit his child?" he asked, stopping before her throne and bowing to her.

Hel laughed coldly. "Come, do not play this game, Loki," she growled when her laughter died. "We both know why you have come. Truly, I expected you sooner. Or did it take this long for you to gain the courage to come ask for what you want?"

It did not surprise him that she had figured out the matter of succession–she'd inherited her keen intellect from him. Loki looked up at her, seeing himself in her bitterness and pain, and suddenly his resolve fled. He could not do it. He'd hurt her so much–asking her to renounce her claim would cut her still more deeply. It was clear that even anticipating his visit had hurt her. His mouth opened, closed without a sound. Then, sighing, his shoulders slumped. "Forgive me, daughter," he said quietly, already turning away. "I should not have disturbed you."

Hel straightened in her throne, frowning. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Asgard to tell Thor of my decision," Loki replied. He smiled back at her, a smile full of the love she would not accept from him. Perhaps when he renounced Asgard's throne for her, she would finally see the truth… but even if she didn't, this was the only way he would ever have peace in his own heart. "The Norns spoke truly. This price I will not pay."

"What are you  _talking_  about?"

Hel's impatient demand stopped him. Loki turned to see her on her feet, anger and confusion writ large on her grotesque face. "You said you knew why I had come," he said, frowning now as well. When she gave him no clues, he elaborated. "The Norns visited during the Receiving, daughter. They warned me that my love for Thor came with a price that might prove too dear to pay, and they were right. I only took the throne because otherwise he never could have, but that has cost me the woman I love. I will not sacrifice you as well, and all to rule a kingdom I never wanted."

She stared at him, red eyes wide, anger and suspicion warring on her face. Finally she spoke, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it before. "You don't make any sense. This isn't… I don't understand."

"I have said it to you as many ways as I can. I love you, daughter. It grieves me that you find it so hard to believe." When she just continued to stare at him, Loki sighed and crossed the distance between them. "Before Taryn was… injured… she asked me to promise that I would come here and speak with you," he said, making the decision abruptly. At least if he did this now, the trip would not be wasted.

And having fulfilled his promise, Loki could enter the holmgang with a clear conscience, knowing that he'd done everything in his power to make his peace with Hel one last time.

She still wore that stunned look. His abrupt change of subject clearly confused her. "Why?"

"Because a few months ago, I finally learned what caused the accident during your creation," Loki replied quietly. Her face went stony as it always did when he brought up her birth, but he didn't let it dissuade him this time. "I created you in my image, and I never understood why it went so wrong. But until a few months ago, I did not know that Odin was not my father, that the image I knew was a lie. The image I wear this moment is a lie." He took a deep breath, let it out harshly, and unveiled his Jötunn form along with it. "Hel, daughter, I could not make you Æsir because I am not Æsir. I am… I am the son of Laufey."

Hel gaped at him, utter shock on her face. "How is this?" she breathed, staring at his red eyes, the same eyes she saw in her reflection–his ridged blue skin, mirrored over half of her body. Then, her face hardening again, "Is this a trick?"

He shook his head. "I wish it were, but it is the truth." He reached out and took her hand, letting her feel the unnatural cold of the Jötunn for herself.

And suddenly, from that point of contact, Hel changed.

She gasped and jerked her hand from his, but that didn't stop the transformation. Blue crawled over her body just as it had over Loki's when the Jötunn warrior had grabbed him during the battle, just as it did when he touched the Casket of Ancient Winters. But the changes to Hel's body were far more drastic than Loki had experienced.

Her ruined body straightened, twisted limbs lengthening, spine growing. Her hair, before covering only half her scalp, spread and thickened around short, ivory horns. Her corpse-like pallor fled before the wave of icy blue, her skin first smoothing and then revealing deeply etched warlines–the same markings that graced Loki's own skin, the lines of the House of Laufey.

Within moments it was over. Hel stood before him, towered over him, tall as Garm.

And  _beautiful_  as only a Jötunn giantess could be.

Loki knew his jaw had dropped but he couldn't stop it. Hel was staring down at herself, at the skin which was no longer mottled and ruined, at her smooth and strong limbs, her graceful, long-fingered hands. She ran them trembling over her face. "What did you  _do_?" she demanded, breathless.

Finally recalling himself, Loki magicked a mirror into being before her–one large enough to reflect Hel from head to toe. "I did not know that would happen," he admitted as she stared awestruck at her reflection. She touched her face again, shaking all over, and a tear slid down his cheek as pure joy burst through him. "Daughter, you are perfection," he breathed.

She spun around and gaped at him. "How?" she said, tears on her own face.  _"How?"_

Loki told her everything then–the battle on Jötunnheim, touching the Casket back on Asgard and revealing his true form, Odin's admission–all of it. Through it all, Hel listened as she had never listened to anything he'd ever told her.

When the story was done, everything revealed to her, Hel just stared at him. "Why am I so tall, yet you remain the same?"

Loki spread his hands helplessly. "I was abandoned as an infant because I was a runt," he said, the words still sticking painfully in his throat. He wondered if the pain of being thrown away like so much garbage would ever fade. "Perhaps I never would have grown, or maybe Odin's spell of concealment stunted my height. It matters not–Jötunn I am, but never will I achieve the stature of a true Frost Giant."

Hel absorbed this in silence for a moment. "The Æsir don't know their king is not one of them," she finally said, her voice flat, unreadable.

"No, save a bare handful," he replied, nodding as he reassumed his Æsir illusion. He ticked them off on his fingers. "Heimdall sees all. Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three have seen my true shape, and of course Odin in his grave and Frigga who raised me as a mother know the truth." He swallowed, clenching his fists against sudden pain. "And my lady. Taryn has seen me as I truly am."

"A secret hidden from all but a trusted few, and yet you tell me. Your enemy."

"No." Loki shook his head forcefully. "You are my child. Not my enemy."

Hel looked at him like he was insane. "I could use this against you so easily," she pointed out. "You have to know all the ways I could use it to my advantage. Why would you tell me this?"

He lifted a shoulder. "You are my child," he repeated as though that explained everything. When she shook her head at him, he smiled a little. "You deserve to know this, after all you have suffered. And I made a promise to Taryn," he admitted, the smile fading, the pain resurging.

Hel stared down at her hands again, turning them over and over again as though waiting for them to return to their roughened and ugly state. When they didn't, she straightened and met his gaze firmly. "Do what you came for, Father," she said, and the use of that name in that statement cut him more deeply than any blade of steel or ice. "Make your request."

Loki shook his head again. "It doesn't matter what I came here for, Hel," he replied gently. "I love you too much to ask such a thing of you. There is another way; I will take it."

She frowned but for once didn't throw his declaration of love back in his face. "There is no other way. You know this."

His brows drew together, puzzled. "There is," he contradicted. When she still looked mystified, he explained. "I will leave the throne. Problem solved, although it gives Thor a few, but he owes me enough already to forgive me that."

Hel stepped back, frown deepening. "What does your throne or Thor have to do with it?"

"Everything." Now Loki was frowning, too. "What do you think I came here for?"

"What  _did_  you come here for?"

He watched her for a moment, considering, before mentally shrugging. He'd already told her so much that could be used against him. "You are my daughter," he said, "trueborn by the laws of Asgard. As such, you are heir to Asgard's throne, but I know how much you justifiably hate the Æsir. I came to ask you to renounce your claim to the throne, but I cannot do it, Hel. I will not. I would rather lose a crown than lose a child." When she just stared at him, clearly stunned, he asked, "Why did you think I came?"

Instead of speaking, Hel raised a hand shimmering with magic–magic that now worked properly, not the unreliable, sputtering sorcery of before.

And above her hand, glimmering in golden stasis reminiscent of Odin in his enchanted sleep, appeared the sleeping spirit of a woman. _Taryn._ "To beg me to release your beloved," the Queen of the Dead replied, and Loki's heart froze in his chest.


	32. The Cost of Revenge

For an eternity, all Loki could do was stare at the golden specter in Hel’s possession.  His mind, never quiet, never still, had ground to a complete halt at the sight of Taryn here in the Realm of the Dead.  He could not progress past one horrible thought–that Taryn had died while he was away, that she’d died and he had not been beside her.

_Dead–dead!  She’s dead, my lady is dead–_

Only when pain jolted through his legs did Loki realize he’d fallen to his knees–only when Hel frowned and reached for him did Loki realize that the broken cry of denial echoing through the desolate hall had come from his own lips.  It didn’t matter–none of it mattered, nothing mattered now.  Nothing ever would again. 

Hel stared down at her father, at the devastation laid bare on his face.  How many times over the aeons had she imagined just this moment, Loki on his knees before her, feeling all the pain and anguish she’d suffered through the millennia?  How many nights had she lain awake, planning how she would savor her revenge?  How she would gloat over him as he knelt, broken, at her feet?

Now that she’d achieved her goal, Hel tasted no victory, only ashes.

Instead of mocking him with all her hurts, she remembered only the kindnesses he’d offered her.  Instead of cursing him with her own ugliness, she recalled hours, weeks, years spent grudgingly accepting his lessons to control her unreliable magic–Loki endlessly patient no matter what she said or did to try his temper.  Instead of focusing on her rage, her anger, the many slights she’d suffered at the hands of the Æsir, all Hel could hear were her father’s words, repeated so many times no matter how often she mocked them and threw them back in his face:  _“I love you, daughter.”_

This… this was not what she wanted.  Revenge, yes–vengeance in all its wicked flavors–but not against Loki.

Not against the one being in all the Realms who had only ever loved her, never loathed her.

Loki raised his head then, and in his eyes was all the rage and loathing she’d ever glared at him–all of it and more.  “You did this,” he hissed, power starting to flow around him, cloaking him in raw chaos as fury swelled to match his pain.  “The poison, the attack–and now you steal her very _soul?”_   These last words were a snarl.

Hel shook her head emphatically–telling the truth for once.  “I did not,” she countered, fighting to remain calm when all her instincts told her to run, to get away, because this man on his knees before her was the most dangerous thing she’d ever faced.  When he did not seem at all moved, she held up a hand in a mute gesture– _listen to me, please.  Just listen._   Loki bared his teeth at her but did not attack, and she spoke quickly, making the most of the moment he’d given her.

“I had nothing to do with the attack or the poison.  I only became aware of any of it when I felt her spirit drifting in the ether.”  Hel hesitated a beat, wondering if she could explain this adequately–she’d never tried to help her father understand her affinity for the souls of the dead and dying.  “She was ejected from her dying body but was fighting so hard to return to it that her struggle caught my attention.  I looked closer, and when I recognized her…”  She let the sentence trail off, again feeling ashamed, because she had indeed stolen the woman’s soul–Taryn had fought valiantly during the attack and had not been destined for Hel’s realm of the dishonored, but Hel had scooped the spirit up, wrapped it in a stasis spell, and waited for Loki to come beg for her release so she could refuse him.

Hel took her father by the arm and pulled him to his feet–perhaps a bit too roughly, but she did try to moderate her new strength.  “You mourn prematurely,” she told him, letting Taryn’s spirit hover so she could grasp his shoulders with both hands.  The power enveloping him burned her but she didn’t release him.  “I have held her in stasis.  She is caught between the realms of the living and the dead–neither one nor the other.”

She saw the effort it took for Loki to take this in, to hear her past his rage and grief.  She hadn’t realized, when she’d met Taryn during the Receiving, just how much her father loved this mortal woman.  Now she felt guilty for planning to use this against him.  She, perhaps more than any other, knew how rare it was to find a love like that–no matter what the skalds sang, few were the heroes who dared brave her realm to reclaim their lost lovers. 

And when Hel met those few brave warriors, the agony of loss in their eyes was an echo of what she’d seen in Loki’s gaze moments before.  He would have quested for this woman, Hel thought, watching him gather himself, seeing the wheels begin to turn again behind those green eyes.  Loki would have braved the horrors of the underworld without a second thought.

_That is what I want,_ Hel realized, _to be loved like that_ , and cursed the thought as it formed.

Loki’s fingers were tight on her wrists now, bringing her back to herself.  He took a shaking breath.  “Do you have any knowledge of who gave her the poison?”

Hel was taken aback.  “You… you believe me?”  Surely it wasn’t this easy.

Loki smiled without any warmth whatsoever, and although he addressed Hel, his gaze remained caught on that floating golden specter.  “I am the God of Lies,” he said coldly, as if all the heat in his body, all the fire in his spirit was now concentrated on the ghost of his lover.  “I have known every lie that has ever passed your lips, daughter.  Had you told me one now, I would stand before you as a god of vengeance.  Believe that, if you believe nothing else I tell you.”

And she did believe it.  He’d pulled his power back, but she wouldn’t forget that glimpse of it.  Making an enemy of Loki suddenly seemed like the worst idea she’d ever had.

“Speak with Sigyn,” she said, watching her father’s mouth tighten at the name.  “She serves you at the High Table, does she not?”

Loki nodded, still looking past her at Taryn.  “Thor’s feast… Selvig sickened from one stem of grapes from her plate,” he murmured as though to himself, and Hel almost felt sorry for the goddess. 

Almost. 

Then stepped firmly out of her grasp, Loki focused, finally, on Hel once more.  “Name your price, daughter,” he rasped, hands clenching and unclenching with the control it took not to just reach out and grab Taryn.  Hel was certain he knew that something so simple would not be adequate to wrest a soul from her realm, but it was still instinct to try.  “Name your price, and if it is within my power to give you, I will do so, sparing not even my own life.  I ask only that you let me take my revenge before I pay.  Tell me what I must do to make her whole and well again and it will be done.”

Hel looked past him, seeing the mirror which reflected the perfection of her new body and remembering the hopeless anguish on her father’s face.  Now she saw only determination, mingled with resignation.  He clearly expected her to name impossibilities–truly, he had reason to expect it, for that had indeed been her plan.  All her life she’d fought against him.  He had no cause to anticipate anything else now.

Abruptly, she cast her plans aside and knelt beside Loki, reducing the disparity in their heights.  “No soul can leave my realm without a soul being given in return,” she said, but gently, a statement of fact rather than a demand.  He closed his eyes and sighed, but only for a moment–then his gaze was locked on the ephemeral image of Taryn again.  Hel reached out and called the soul to her.  “I can keep her thus as long as her body lives,” she told him as the golden image hovered once more over her palm.  “Send me a soul, father, and I will deem the price paid.”

He met her eyes, apprehension not quite hidden in his own.  “Do you wish for mine?”

Hel shook her head.  “Any but yours.  I am not as cruel as that.”

Loki’s gaze sharpened, shocked.  “You would give me the choice?”  The surprise in his tone brought a small smile to her face–how long had it been since she’d surprised him?  Had she _ever_ surprised him in any positive fashion before now?

“I do,” Hel agreed, finding the generosity more pleasing than her revenge by far.  “But I would urge you to choose quickly.  Her spirit is very strong, but I feel her body faltering.  She cannot live thus divided much longer.”

Loki’s fists clenched and his eyes blazed.  “I will send you Baldur himself, then,” he said, and Hel’s eyebrows rose as he named the most beloved of Asgard’s citizens, not to mention the warrior was famously immune to harm.  She’d expected him to name Sigyn.  “For I have already vowed to kill him in holmgang for the treachery that led to Taryn’s wounds, and I can think of no other better suited to trade for her life.”

“King of the Æsir, I accept your offer,” she replied formally, and let Taryn’s spirit fade into the ether again.  “Let the death of Baldur the Good buy the life of Taryn, your love.  When he is delivered unto me, then will I deliver her unto you.  Our bargain is sealed.”

Loki finally looked at her again when the sleeping spirit was gone.  He reached out and caught her hands, not pulling away when the blue of the Jötunn was revealed in his skin once more.  “Daughter,” he whispered, his grasp tight, his eyes blazing with emotion as his voice faltered.  “Daughter, I… thank you.  Thank you for keeping her safe here.”

Hel bit her lip hard, his gratitude painful.  “It was not my intention to do so,” she finally admitted.  “I took her for another purpose.”

“But whatever your intention, you did save her,” Loki persisted, squeezing her hands still tighter.  “If you had not captured her, she would have died in truth.  So I thank you, Hel, with all my heart.”  He gazed at her, eyes burning with emotion.  “I am in your debt.”

“Then tell me why!” she suddenly burst out, the question torn from her in a cry of pain.  She tore her hands from his and strode away, unable to be still in her agitation, and the new smoothness of her gait did nothing to calm her.  “I could have borne my cursed ugliness if only you had kept me–why did you cast me away?  Why, if you love me as you have so often said?”

Loki went still, staring at her in shock.  “You think it was _my_ will to send you here?” he finally asked, incredulous.  When she didn’t reply, only met his emerald gaze with her own burning crimson one, he ran both hands through his hair before letting his arms fall limp at his sides.  “Hel, that was Odin’s decree, not mine.  I would never have–”

“Odin’s decree that you did not fight,” she shot back, finally voicing the pain that had lain beneath all her hatred for so many centuries.  For all that she had berated him for creating her a monster, hideous and twisted, _this_ was what had caused her the most agony.  “You did not even come to see me for a full year.  A _year_ in this place, Loki!  A year with the dead as my only companions!”

He reached out to her, pleading.  “Because I was in a coma for that year, daughter,” he told her desperately, and seeing her go still, he pressed on.  Had he really never told her this?  “Because I nearly died in creating you.  I pressed past the limits of my own magic in the spells I used in your making, and when I could feel it going wrong, I pushed harder.  Hel, it is only by the grace of the Norns and the skill of Eir that I lived at all.  And when I discovered what Odin had done–”

Hel stared at him, silent, remembering that first meeting.  He’d come to Helheimr, pale and gaunt, and she’d taken his slow gait and halting words as disgust at her form and at her derisively-named _kingdom._   She’d mocked him for his insistence that she return to Asgard with him, thinking it only pity that moved him.  This was her home, her kingdom, and her people, she’d told him bitterly, festering with the hatred that had been born as soon as she’d been cast down amongst the dead.  _I prefer the honesty of the dead to the duplicity of the living,_ she’d spat at him, and it was a cold dismissal she’d repeated over and over until he’d finally stopped asking.

“You were sick,” she whispered, remembering it all anew.  “I didn’t… I knew you’d been weakened by the spells, but I didn’t know how bad it was.”  Then, her old suspicions roused once more, her tone sharpened.  “Or was it?”

Loki sighed, shoulders dropping as if a heavy weight, briefly removed, had once more landed upon them.  “I can bring Eir to you, daughter, if you would question her,” he offered, but his tone was flat, resigned once more, as if he could feel her again pulling away from the understanding they’d so briefly shared.  “Or Frigga, or Thor–any Æsir you wish to name, I will bring to you.  Whatever you need to believe, I will provide.”  Then he sighed and met her gaze wearily.  “But will you _ever_ believe me, Hel?  What more can I do than I have already done?  I cannot keep fighting you.  Is it not enough that I will give up the throne of Asgard so that you may keep my name?”

Hel was silent a long time, those words echoing in her ears.  Throughout the centuries, Loki had done so much for her, so many things never appreciated.  He had defended her when the Æsir would have mocked her, had given her his name instead of denying the disgusting creature he’d inadvertently created.  What more could she ask of him?

“I… believe you,” she finally said, the words rough.  Then, making the decision abruptly so that she could not let doubts take her again, she added, “Keep your throne in peace, King of the Æsir.  I renounce any claim to it.  I have a kingdom already and need no other.”

Loki’s jaw dropped before he could stop it.  “Are you certain of this, daughter?” he asked, shocked.

She smiled, a bitter, mocking twist of the lips.  “Why would I want to live in Asgard?” she said with a touch of her old derision.  “The company of the dead is far preferable to that of the Æsir.  The dead do not mock and hate me.  Keep your kingdom, Father.  I do not want it.”

Loki crossed the distance between them and embraced her, levitating to her height to do so.  “I love you, daughter,” he murmured, hugging her hard.

Hel hesitantly returned the embrace–the first time she had ever done so.  “I believe you,” she said once more, then pulled away from him.  His eyes were over-bright when she met his gaze.  “Now go,” she said, giving him a little smile.  “Prepare for your holmgang and send me Baldur’s soul.  I would hate to be disappointed in the morning.”

“You won’t be,” Loki promised, and bowing deeply to her, he returned to Asgard with a significantly lighter heart.


End file.
